


hlvrai but it's also freeman's mind

by fourcardflush



Category: HLVRAI-Fandom, Half-Life VR But The AI Self Aware, freeman's mind
Genre: Ableist Language, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Gen, GordonSwapAU, Gratuitous Violence, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pet Play (sort of), Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Transmisogyny, benrey gets transported from hlvrai to freeman's mind idk, gordon freeman from freeman's mind, make war not love, need I remind you both of these characters are creeps, transphobic language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:30:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 45,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26333416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourcardflush/pseuds/fourcardflush
Summary: Unstoppable force? Meet immovable object.Alternate universe shenanigans somehow occur. Freeman definitely messed with the wrong security guard. Benrey definitely messed with the wrong Gordon Freeman.
Relationships: Benrey & Bubby & Tommy Coolatta & Dr. Coomer & Gordon Freeman, Benrey & Gordon Freeman, Benrey/Gordon Freeman
Comments: 243
Kudos: 465





	1. you respawned in the wrong neighborhood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uhh couple of notes. First of all, you don’t *need* to watch Freeman’s Mind to really understand what’s going on, but it certainly would help since I’m referencing specific points of the series in this work. If you don’t feel like watching all of it in this fic I start at about episode 39 of FM. Encouraging the crime of skipping ahead and risking internet jail time aside, you don’t ~really need the backstory to jump right into the middle. It’s just a version of Gordon Freeman that starts out as an incredibly smart bastardman who gets progressively more narcissistic and sociopathic as time goes on because of all the mess he has to deal with on his own. That being said, if you DO have time and inclination, I highly recommend it. It’s an excellent watch by a brilliant creator. If you simp Benrey because he’s sort of an unapologetic douchebag, you WILL stan FM!Gordon. 
> 
> Second of all-:  
> WARNINGS. Freeman’s Mind is an older series, starting from more than a decade ago. It is a product of a very different online culture. I want to stay true to his character but closely emulating him requires me to write him having some offensive thoughts. Ableism, homophobia, depersonalization, rampant drug use, narcissism, casual suicidal ideation, sexual harassment, paranoia, manipulation and overzealous violence may be mentioned and are par for the course. This version of Gordon is NOT a good man! Go ahead and check the tags now while I have your attention. If any of that distresses you, do yourself a favor and click the back button. Safety first. 
> 
> Thirdly:  
> This work is unbeta'd. To differentiate, Gordon is hereby the character in hlvrai and Freeman is the character in Freeman’s Mind. Benrey is allowed to spell his own name as ‘Benry’, since he’s, you know ;)

Benry is noble enough to admit (to himself) that hanging out with the science team isn’t totally bad. Half the group is always busy going ape with bloodlust or running around screaming or blowing everything up- it was pretty fun to watch. Real gamer shit. All the Black Mesa staff were providing entertainment by desperately fighting for their lives, actually. To the point where Benry kept losing track of the group because of all the little. Lil’ side story drama. A guard crying while killing his zombified best friend here, soldier rigging his vest with explosives and running head on into a nest of Vortigaunts there...fun stuff. If he knew that all he had to do to stop humans from being boring all the time was tearing open a dimensional rift, he would have done it himself. And waaaaay sooner. Very cringe that all of them hit permadeath, though. 

Well. Almost all of them. 

The robot guy and the snarky tube, uh, baby, would survive.For sure. Even if his senses were dulled down to stupid weaksauce human levels, the sheer chaotic energy that those two emitted would’ve been a tip-off. And he was boys with Tommy so- psshhh, he wasn’t even worried. While Benry would’ve been happy to play with those three on their own, the real prize went to Gordon “regular human” Freeman. Was constantly spouting off the funniest lines. Don’t do this blah blah blah. Stop standing around and help us neuh neuh neuh. For a guy that wasn’t supposed to be there, he sure did talk with a lot of authority. Benry tried to let it slide for the most part because he and Gordon were such good buddies now, but he knew humans to be very into rules. Didn’t want to draw _too_ much suspicion. All kinda suss shit going on already. Even Gordon loved rules, though none of the ones he followed seemed to be very. Hm. Solid. Like, Gordon would kill something, and then Benry would kill a different thing, and then Gordon would get mad? Mad at good friend Benry? Even when he killed the same type of thing- humans, in this case, funniest option- he _still_ got yelled at! Very mean. Very not epic of him. Benry had clearly gotten too lax if that’s how it was gonna be. He knew wearing the blue clothing meant he had to tell humans how to act, he wasn’t _stupid._

He just hoped it didn’t affect their friendly banter too much. But anyway. That didn’t matter right now. He was stuck in a barrel and it sucked in here. He couldn’t un- be in there like he usually could when he wanted to leave. Whatever it was made out of made his skin kinda. Itchy. His head felt funny. Colors kept flashing in his face and they all tasted weird. Either the barrel was doing that on its own or he was getting dizzy from what felt like being rolled down a cliff side. Could be the case. Oh, now it was being slammed into something. A wall? Annoying. Guess he’d actually need to use effort to get out of this. The wall slam had already dented the barrel, so it wasn’t too hard to pop out of once he had a little room to flex. 

He was still in Black Mesa by the looks of it. Or like, on the grounds. Definitely right outside, for sure. There were the pipes. There was the spilled green slime. There were the soldiers on the cliffside shooting at Gordon. There was Gordon all on his lonesome, mowing them all down. Wow. The science team had been waaay majorly underground when Benrey had last peeled off. They were progressing hella fast all of the sudden. Or, Gordon was, anyway. All by himself. Lonely loser boy. Yeah. Sick burn. He was saving that one, for sure. Loser baby all alone on the playground. Gonna- gonna seesaw by yourself? Huh? 

He snickered to himself as he walked back to the rockface. The air sounded funny, out here, even with the color flashes gone. And he still felt a little off, like the ground was constantly tilting a little. No- that wasn’t right. He felt like he was walking in two places at once. Yeah. He hadn’t felt like that since back when he himself must’ve been, what- a baby? This was some primo baby-level teleportation feeling. And he _still_ didn’t know how he’d gotten stuck in that barrel. At first he’d assumed he’d just noclipped into it by accident, but now he wasn’t so sure. 

He was a tad bit worried that someone might've gotten the drop on him already, so popped a few more eyes out around the sides of his helmet. Real 360 noscope. One of them watched the playing around up above. At a certain point, Gordon was single handedly battling a helicopter with a rocket launcher. Which- you know what? That was pretty sick. Benny boy could admit that much. Great cool. He sort of assumed the human would get squashed like a little crawly bug mouse without group protection, but guess not. Either he worked better on his own- which was just as well, still fun for Benry- or he had totally shed his scaredy-cat emotions. Which. _Did_ happen with humans when they thought they were gonna die very shortly, sometimes. Even the whiny little chicken hat ones. If Gordon continued to not-die for much longer, Benry was gonna go up there for a closer look. Maybe he was cool now. Maybe he got smart enough with his 3000 iq to listen to Benry.

\----

“That was liberating…” 

Freeman had to admit- despite _every single shit thing_ that had happened so far, things were finally looking up! The sun was shining. His mind was singing. The helicopter was down. He had a rocket launcher.

“Woah, wait! Do you hear that?” he cocked a hand to his ear and looked conspiratorially at the open air as if it held a rapt audience.

“ I think that’s silence! That’s the sound people make when everyone who tried to kill me is dead! And I have a rocket launcher! A rocket launcher with a _laser guided system!_ And” he stumbled as he continued along the edge of the cliff face, victor’s high slowly fading. His heart was beating just as fast, but. For a different reason. The tightness in the pit of his stomach that came with being this high up returned. 

“I’m walking on a really, really narrow cliff face. Eug.” Just chattering to himself now. Beat doing all this whack stuff in silence, at least. Though if this went without his usual morning drug cocktail for much longer, his jaw was gonna lock. And then where would he be?

“Besides seeming like a gift from the gods,” he continued, “this rocket launcher is really giving me some food for thought. I may have to revise my theory about the universe wanting me dead.” If that were true the rocket launcher _never_ would have happened. So, only _most_ of the universe wants him dead. “There’s some larger game going on here. I’m more like Perseus or Odysseus, caught in the center of some cosmic politics. Which is too bad, I was kind of hoping the universe _would_ end with me.” The sophilistic delusion he had clung to earlier, that dopaminergic rush that twisted his brain into believing that none of what was happening was real outside of his own mind, had dissipated. It was really too bad. The fact that he was better than literally everyone he’s interacted with on an intrinsic level remained, but the realization that he probably hadn’t gained immortality on this epic quest through alien hell was depressing. But .Maybe there was still a way to make that happen. If he was going to get got, he would _absolutely_ take out as many living beings as he could on the way out. 

He felt like he was forgetting something important…what had he been talking about before he had to totally focus on killing people and not falling to his death at the same time? Oh.

“Mind reading, that was it!” Oh, _another_ ladder? Great. He had half a mind to hunt down the contractor Black Mesa had hired to build this thing. Though from the looks of it, they were probably just as much of a maniac as Freeman. “Ok, let’s say it exists, even though it doesn’t show up on any known measurable spectrum. The tin foil hat people…”

He continued to ramble on whilst thinking about how idiotic tin foil hat people were for using a chunk of metal on their head, which in all likelihood would just _conduct_ whatever electromagnetic waves the government was using to read their minds. He worked himself into such a tizzy he nearly fell off the cliff side at one point. Yeesh. He highly doubted the hev suit could protect him from becoming a faint red splatter, despite providing Freeman with near invulnerability to bullets so far. He must have been shot about three dozen times at this point without so much as a puncture. Jesus christ, what did they make these things out of? Surely some element not officially known to man. Now that interdimensional travel was clearly a thing, that wasn’t a completely insane theory. It _would_ be like Black Mesa to use alien substances in their safety equipment without warning anyone. But, if that were true, why not sell it to the military? A tank built out of this stuff would be completely invincible? Or, wait- he knew what was going on. This was some Iraq War shit all over again. A hard to get but valuable substance in the desert, a mysterious disaster that _certainly_ wasn’t Freeman’s fault catastrophic enough to justify military intervention- it was all starting to come together. Bush did the resonance cascade. That was a solid story he for sure was going to disseminate after he got out of here and had to live his life on the run as a political fugitive. Speaking of which, ah! Another pipe entrance!

“I can see it now. The pieces are all coming into place. The- yow!” One of those headcrab things shot right out of the pipe and down the cliff face. Bastard. “Yeah! Toro, motherfucker!” He watched it plummet to the hard,unforgiving earth, revelling in its ever-fading (and final) screech. “Splat!” he jeered. Too bad he was too far up to actually see its moment of death. 

“Wait, what’s-” was that a figure walking down there? It was bipedal for sure, but that hardly narrowed it down at this point. Could be a military straggler, could be an alien straggler. “Should I even care? No way they can see me, right?” Still, paranoia picked at the back of his brain, the way it often did. Too bad the cliff face was so sheer right now, he had the high ground advantage _and_ the rocket launcher advantage. But even if they decided to follow him, no way they were getting up any time soon. “I can always kill you later,” he muttered as he dragged himself into yet _another_ drain pipe. 

Between taking out yet even more soldiers once he crawled out of the other side, singing an outdated song off-key, exploding a tank, dodging landmines, ducking under lasers and having a battle of wits with a particularly feisty sniper just to break into a warehouse filled with warheads which would certainly explode if he so much as sneezed in the direction of the many, _many_ laser-trip claymores covering the room in a web of death, some idiot nobody at the bottom of the canyon was _hardly_ the first thing on his mind. It wasn’t even the hundredth thing. Freeman forgot he even existed, so he certainly had stopped existing altogether. 

He stared up at said nuclear warheads as he jumped onto an elevator platform and descended down into the warehouse basement. “I wonder if I could hijak one of these missiles and ride on out of here.” Nah, he would just die on impact. No sooner had he stepped into the hallway before a screaming security guard ran right toward him. In turn, a small group of soldiers were chasing him right to their presumed targeto numero uno. How convenient for them and annoying for Freeman! Time to shoot more people to death, he guessed. In the resulting fray, both the soldiers and the guard were gunned down like dogs. See, this is why Freeman didn’t have any friends. Friends were like weeds. Or rabbits. They just screamed a lot and then died shortly after meeting him. Fate did not have a partner in store for him, it seemed. He might as well be cursed, And-

Hey, was that a truck parked in the middle of the corridor? His heart leapt. Was this another rocket launcher stroke of luck? Could it be that easy all of a sudden? “Please tell me the keys are in the ignition…” he murmured fervently. Of course, because most of the universe was still out to get him, they were not. He slammed his crowbar into the dashboard. “No! Wrong answer!” God, why did he keep putting off learning how to hotwire a car?

“Excuse me?” a monotone voice said right next to his fucking ear. 

Freeman shrieked and nearly blew the head off of a second, much more jaded looking security guard. “Holy shit! Don't surprise me like that!”

If the guard heard him, he didn’t respond. Full on, dead eyed stare. Cold as a fish. Creepy. “can I see your passport?” he asked.

“Passport? What the fuck are you talking about? Shouldn’t you be worried about the soldiers trying to kill you? Or anything going on right now? Are you high?”

The guard merely blinked at him. “can i see your, uh, passport?” he repeated. 

“ _Okay,_ so. You are not responding correctly _at all_. I don’t know if you’re shell shocked or just a stone cold sociopath, but stay the fuck away from me.”

“if you don’t have a passport, you’re not supposed to be here,” he smacked his lips. “guess i’ll just have to follow you,” Was that a smirk Freeman caught right there? His eyes narrowed. Ah. He knew what was going on. Playing mind games, was he? Maybe he sold his buddy out to the military and Freeman was an inconvenient witness. 

Freeman started to walk away, and sure enough. From the corner of his eye, he could see...mhm. Yup. Cop Jason Vorhees was really going to follow him. Because Freeman was feeling charitable, he shot near the guard’s feet.

“Listen! I don’t know your game, and I don’t care. Go away. You're not worth my time. I'm not going to let some rando doughnut muncher kill me. There's no honor in it,” he sneered.

“Next bullet’s going straight into your head.”

The guard, still completely undisturbed- huh, maybe he was on drugs- tilted his head to the side. “why don’t you want me to follow you? gonna uh- gonna steal something? steal that truck? why’re you- why’d you steal that truck?” 

He boldly took a step forward. Freeman shot him in the head. 

The guard spit out the bullet. Blood welled up from the perfect circle in his forehead and trickled down the line of his nose.

“why’d you go and do that, Gordon?” he complained. As if Freeman had cut him in line instead of shooting him at point blank range. He was- it was- _it knew his name._ Fuck this. _Fuck this._

He emptied the rest of his clip into the guard. Okay, blood was spraying out. _Red_ blood. Which was weird, since all the other aliens bled yellow. But whatever, not important. This thing could bleed. That was good. Less good, it still wasn’t dead. Which, frankly? A little bit disheartening.

Whatever it was was smart enough to learn how to look and speak like a human, but not smart enough to at least pretend to be dead. If it had played dead Freeman wouldn’t have given him another thought. Could’ve merc'd him from behind, no problem. Maybe it was new and had never been shot before, so it didn’t know how to react. In which case it must not have been paying any attention to anything going on around it whatsoever, because there were _many_ learning examples to choose from. 

“Humans fall down when they get shot in the head like that!” Freeman shouted at it. “Dumbass!”

“‘m not human though.” the security guard replied.

_“Yeah. I can see that.”_

Explosive rounds. He still had some explosive rounds.He had grenades. Both of which had taken out the alien tank bouncers, so no way this one would be immune. Whatever it was made out of had to be at least soft enough to allow it to shapeshift. Unless it just _happened_ to look human naturally, or at least human enough to reasonably pass. Even though all other creatures Freeman had come across would suggest the evolutionary trajectory of its planet wouldn’t have allowed that. Not to mention, the probability was so, _so_ astronomically low. So low that if aliens in another dimension really did just happen to evolve into humanoids, it would basically be proof that God was real, right? ‘Created in His Image’ and all that? Though, a closer look would suggest it didn’t pass _too_ well either, what with the grey skin and- sharp teeth? The teeth were the most normal thing at this point, actually. Whether creature or alien person, this was clearly an ambush predator.

He loaded a clip into his shotgun. As expected, the guard continued to stand there dumbly. Why wouldn’t he? He knew he was immune to bullets for sure now, he probably didn’t feel threatened at all. All the more better for Freeman.

“don’t shoot me, please?” 

Freeman shot him again. 

Keeping up with everything going wrong in his life, the explosive round also did nothing. Lovely. Freeman blinked and the guard was suddenly _right_ in his face. 

“stop.”

Freeman yelped and swung out at him. It felt like punching a brick wall. Holy shit. He yelped louder.

“don’t make that noise.” 

“Playing tag with me, bastard? Gonna make me ‘it’?” Freeman screamed angrily and attempted to hit the guard with the butt of his gun. Just to get some space between them at this point. Holy Christ and whore Mary, he could have legit gotten his throat bitten out! Without a helmet, the suit collar didn’t go up far enough to totally protect his neck! OR his face! He _needed_ to keep his face, god damn it! The creepy face-stealer couldn’t have it! 

The guard simply knit his brows. “huh?”

_“You going to?!”_

“what?”

Freeman hissed and raised his lip into a snarl. Dear God. He hoped that this one was just his species’ equivalent of brain damaged, because if he somehow beat it but then had to deal with more of them later, he really would kill himself. Some experiences would break any man. 

“Don’t. Fuck with me. What do you _want_.”

“your passport.” He said it in a tone which would suggest _Freeman_ was the idiot. In a way, it was the most convincing aspect of security guard impersonation yet.

For the first time in a long time, Freeman found himself momentarily stunned into silence. This guy- thing- whatever. Must be truly twisted. Like some sort of rabies-demented cat, letting its prey think it was going to get away before disemboweling it with its claws. And it looked so unbothered, which wasn’t a great sign. It probably couldn’t conceptualize human emotion even with the mimicry skill. And now that Freeman’s brain had fully caught up to the fact that the thing in front of him wasn’t actually human, the guard was emitting an incredibly menacing aura. Maybe it didn’t look nearly human for real, but was tricking Freeman’s mind into seeing an illusion of a guard? A very unconvincing, lazy illusion? That would explain his sudden nausea.Couldn’t be because he was actually afraid of that thing. Not at this point, with all he’d been through already. No way. He was- evidence would suggest that he was practically immortal! They must be _about_ evenly matched. He was not on the verge of freaking out right now. This was him, not freaking out.

... 

Well, okay! Fuck it! Maybe he would die! Who gives a shit! If it was time for Freeman to go, he wasn’t about to go like a bitch. Time to get straight up Looney Tunes.

“You know what? No problem.” Freeman slowly began creeping backwards. “ Got my passport riiiiight here, buddy. Catch.” he tossed the guard a live grenade. The guard caught it, looking puzzled. Freeman turned and sprinted to duck around the nearest corner and covered his ears. 

The subsequent bang sounded positively orgasmic to him. 

“Please be a scorch mark, please be a scorch mark, please be a- oh, _come on._ ”

“why’re you exploding me?” the security guard sing-songed, coming at Freeman again. “i knew- knew this would happen. suspicious back from the start. Gordon Meanman.”

“Are you a ghost?” Freeman demanded. At this point, it might be the most likely option. The guard’s clothes were barely singed, but he was covered in a thick sheen of his own rapidly darkening blood. The splashes on his face seemed to extend the shadow covering his suddenly yellow eyes. Ghost or demon, for sure.

The guard smacked his lips again and sang out a low, hauntingly beautiful note. A stream of azure blue bubbles sprung from his lips. What the fuck. Gordon dodged what he was certain was some sort of hazardous energy beam the best he could, though they were starting to encircle him. He batted them away with his crow bar.

“No! I don’t want your poison balls! Stop it!” One of them popped, splattering a stripe of color the front of his suit. He winced, hoping it wasn’t corrosive. _That_ would just make his day. 

“calm down, please?”

“I’LL CALM DOWN ONCE I SEE YOUR COLD, HOPEFULLY MUTILATED CORPSE LYING DOWN FOR GOOD! TAKE _THIS_!”

\----

Freeman rested heavily against the doorway of a nearby storage closet. Between the heart palpitations starting up when he’d resumed his assault and the blue...whatever that was that the guard had succeeded in blasting him in the face with, he’d had to make a strategic retreat. He could do little more than rest now. The bubbles were made from some sort of sedative venom, for sure. Venom that inexplicably tasted like artificial blue raspberry. He supposed it was better than the disgusting green goo he’d had the misfortune of getting in his mouth on occasion. 

“Damn it, this is what I was talking about!” he groused, slammed his fist weakly against the door behind him. “I should’ve had a helmet to begin with! That’s a blatant OSHA violation in the first place, even without the aliens! And now I keep getting lacerations on my face and hazardous shit in my mouth! And I’m _still_ hungry! That blue stuff better not be any more poisonous than I’m already feeling it to be. I’ve built enough drug tolerance to fight the sedative effect and not pass out but any more of this stuff and I am _screwed._ If there isn’t a secondary paralysis effect then I’ll probably go into respiratory failure.” Wouldn’t that be just great. And fittingly ironic. He couldn’t hear any movement from that thing in the hall, but it was probably just waiting it out. Waiting to break down the door once Freeman was no longer conscious. If Freeman were some sort of venom-spitting shapeshifting alien predator that’s what _he’d_ do. Though, if he felt like being optimistic, no enemy he had faced thus far had been smart enough to think like him. Hell, maybe it had gotten bored and wandered away! There were some fresh soldier corpses for it to eat like, right there. 

He blinked blearily at the near-empty shelf across from him. As per usual, there were some boxes of ammo and a medkit on it. Exactly when he needed it.

“See, this too! Again,” he slurred, “how can I _not_ think I’m in some sort of made up world when the _exact_ things I would need are just...randomly strewn around for me to come across, everywhere I go? Or, well- I guess not this time. No new super weapon to kill that guard- I think he- it? I’ll just say ‘he’. Said his name was Benrey? Animals don’t usually communicate names like that. Anyway, it’s annoying, because if the venom wears off instead of killing me, I have to go back and finish the job. It’s nothing personal, it’s just that if I _don’t_ I’m going to wake up in a motel room three days from now with him standing over my bed. I can tell, he’s the persistent type.The problem is, a) _how_ can I kill him and b) will he get too far away before I recuperate…” his voice trailed off as his eyes snapped back to the med kit. 

“...I’m an idiot.”

On a normal work day, medkits were what Freeman would call the “goody box.” High quality morphine, and sometimes even ketamine! He’d side-eyed the concerningly strong amphetamine shots in the past, because- well, they were in a research lab in the middle of nowhere! It wasn’t an army base, you silly fucks! He’d thought maybe Programing had put in a special request to prevent their little microdosing parties from growing stale. Or maybe some of the older scientists jonesing for the type of coke fix they'd get back in grad school. But now? Maybe it was just another one of those random happenstances, like the rocket launcher, or the ammo in every crevice of the facility, or the random caches of grenades. Whatever it was, he wasn’t about to bitch about getting _exactly_ the thing he needed. Not this time. 

He crawled over to the shelf and broke open the kit. Bingo. Hopefully the amphetamine shot and the blue venom wasn’t a fatal combination.

“One way to find out,” he murmured weakly, plunging the needle directly into his neck. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 comment= +1 motivation to keep writing 
> 
> blue in azure means Im feeling kinda unsure!
> 
> Freeman: 0 Benrey: 1


	2. lofi hiphop chill beats to hunt alien ghost demons to

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both parties ponder their initial meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the feedback so far! This was very much a case of angrily writing a fic because you're mad it doesn't exist already, so I'm glad yall were thinking the same! So much so I decided to release the second chapter a few days early. Enjoy.
> 
> Bonus points if you can find the two spin off/machima references I snuck in here.

Freeman burst through the door with a loud grunt and swung his rifle in an arc, surveying the halls surrounding him.

“Empty!” he cursed, bouncing a little from foot to foot. He was feeling amped. Electric. The bloodthirsty thing curled in his chest, which he had thus far only allowed to direct from the passenger seat, now had the wheel. He had a delivery to send to a certain guard and the present came directly from the barrel of his rocket launcher. That smug motherfucker. 

“That smug _motherfucker,_ ” he raged, shooting far too many bullets into a passing headcrab. “Y’know for something that’s only _pretending_ to be a guard, he sure is dedicated to the role. I bet on his home planet he’s one of those pricks that threatens to snitch on skateboarders in the park. _Not because_ he cares about trespassing laws mind you, but because the fantasy of having a group of teenagers beg him not to call the cops gives him _such_ a headrush, he ends up losing focus on the task at hand because he wants to go home and jack off while the high lasts. Yeah, I remember dealing with those assholes in high school.” 

He headshot a lone soldier who’d been huddling behind a crate. “ _And_ in adulthood! Some people really just. _Cannot_ mind their business. Who cares if the park is in a ‘school zone’ or whatever! I am a _citizen._ If I want to day drink in an open space, that just _happens_ to be right near a playground, then that is my _right.”_

He turned a corner and immediately opened fire on the rest of the platoon. “ Aha! There you guys are! I was looking for yah! I found your buddy! I _said,_ I- oh, forget it. You’re all dead now. But yeah, I still don’t know. Maybe the guard really _is_ a ghost. It would explain how he knew my name. And I _have_ killed one or two, or a lot of, guards at this point. They all basically look exactly the same, so it’s not like I’d recognize him . But then what was that passport shit all about? None of them ever bothered me about that. None of them bothered me about ID at work _ever,_ once I threatened to throat punch the first fool to ask! Security departments are always so gossipy, I knew word would get around. 

“And it’s not like he looked human, either. But he seemed almost annoyed I didn’t know his name? Feh. As if I would have ever bothered to learn the names of _any_ of the guards. They should all know I’m _way_ too important to do that. Does a master bother to learn the names of all of the help? Of course not! So then this guy- he. Aw man, is this a beetlejuice type of situation? 'Benrey’ doesn’t _sound_ like an arcane name, and I’m pretty well versed on occult lore. But then, what do I know, really? It’s not like a demon has ever shown up any of the times I’ve tried to summon one to enact revenge on my coworkers. Yeah, I bet he’s some sort of demon that draws power whenever his name is spoken on a material plane. I’m gonna actively forget it. Also it seems to kinda piss him off. That’s a nice bonus.If I had time, I’d definitely go find some salt so I could throw it in his face. It’s a win-win, because even if he’s not a demon, salt in the eyes is a sound technique in a fight 100% of the time.”

He paused to take out his crowbar and go to town on a couple of wooden crates. The drug was really making him want to destroy anything in arm’s reach! If he came across any other aliens he was gonna beat them to death instead of shooting them. He’s just in that type of mood now. It hadn’t worked on Benrey, but he wasn’t invulnerable either. Some sort of regenerative property most like. Freeman could work with that. “I’m a scientist, after all! There’s _all_ sorts of experimental potential here. I’m no biologist, but I’ve got some connections. That’s _if_ I decide to catch him instead of kill him. I’m still leaning pretty heavily toward the latter. _Although_ , if I _did_ find a way to neutralize him long enough to sell him on the black market, then game over. I’m _automatically_ rich. We’re talking _real_ fuck you money. I wouldn’t have to finesse a way to get a job in Hawaii, I can just buy an island! Any tropical island would do, really, I’m not picky! I could fund my own lab…nothing could stop me after that. There’d be no boss...no oversight. _Then_ I’d be able to show them! _All_ of them!” He began to cackle, only to cut himself off abruptly. 

“Wait wait wait. Hold up. If he _is_ an alien...like some sort of shape shifting alien spy...if the aliens have espionage capabilities competent enough to blend in as not only humans, but _Black Mesa_ staff, why isn’t this place crawling with those things? That would make their invasion _so much easier._ The guard was the first one I’ve seen- unless-”

He turned another corner and found himself at the foot off an offramp leading up to the surface. And with it, soldiers rushing directly at him so as to make it easier to be mowed down. “Hey! Are you guys secretly ghost aliens?” he called out whilst shooting them. None responded. “Nah, they’re not getting up. Must be human then.” He kicked one body in the gut as he passed to make sure he wasn’t faking it. But alas.

He turned back to peer down into the depths of the basement one final time. Now would be the _perfect_ time for Benrey to pop out. Sun would get in his eyes. Couldn’t something go right for Freeman, just once? God? Satan? Pretty please? 

“C’mon...where’d you go,” he muttered, eyes darting back and forth and rifle at ready. “Come on out, pspspspspsps, hey- if you’re still down there, I _promise_ I won’t shoot you again. I _just_ wanna talk.”

No answer. Freeman huffed and, in his haste to get outside, almost walked backwards into a mortar shell from a tank just across the dirt road. He ducked back behind the wall of the rampway.

“Je-sus! Okay, I’ll talk to you instead. It’s all good, man,” he said, peeking his head around the corner for a brief moment. Another mortar shell hit the ground very soon after. “Very short delay,” he mused. “So greedy for attention! Don’t get angry, baby, there’s plenty of the Freeman to go around!” Not enough time to aim the launcher. He’d have to zig-zag up to too-close range whilst praying.

Miraculously, the zigzagging actually worked. He ducked around the side of a warehouse just in time to see it get bombed to shit. “Why are they bombing warehouses? I am _fully_ confident that they don’t keep track on which ones house the nuclear warheads. Not that I’m surprised! If anything, it’s a miracle they’re not tossing nukes in at this point! Why not! Go buck wild! I don’t even think the presence of their own soldiers would be a deterrent either at this rate! What are ground troops, if not disposable pawns that the bourgeois use to further their agenda which, at _this_ point, seems to be all about me. I mea- God, I’ve seen soldiers stop fighting aliens _in the middle of a battle_ to start shooting at me!” Maybe it’s the suit. They see bright orange and some type of primitive aggression from their amygdala bubbles up to their forebrain.

He wandered until he found an unlocked door that opened into some sort of informal base. The soldiers turned to look at him, surprised. “Ah, there’s your problem,” Freeman said conversationally, to no one, shooting them down before they could so much as reach for their guns. “You got an infestation under the floorboards here, ma’am. _Very_ common during the summer months, but _very_ fixable. As you can plainly see.” 

He surveyed the goods. “Couple of mags...that’s it, huh? They must be storing most of their weapons upstairs. That definitely seems like the strategically dumb sort of thing they’d do. Although- hey. Is that?" What appeared to be a large, six-legged purple insect with nasty giant pincers extending from its face lay across the table. "What is that? Some sort of bug thing? Well, it _looks_ evil…” he shot it. “Is it dead? But that one guy was reaching for it. Maybe he was just in a panic and looking to grab anything in reach.” He tried to poke at it curiously with his crowbar next. Nothing. “Okay, so the next step in the scientific method is to pick it up. I’m _actually_ curious now.”

He wasn’t sure exactly what happened next- seemed it was only playing dead, because when Freeman gingerly picked it up between thumb and forefinger it sprung to life and wrapped around his wrist. “HEY!” He tried to shake it off, violently, to no avail. If his heart weren’t currently going at about a mile a minute already, it definitely would be now.

“Gah, why did I do that? That was stupid! This thing is gonna chew my hand off. That’s different from a facial scar or losing an eye! It’s not sexy! Even if I lean into the pirate look and get a hook to replace it, I just _know_ all my dates are gonna be thinking about fingering mechanics in the back of their mind. _Sure_ it’s illogical to assume I just, I don’t know, _wouldn’t use my other hand_ . But it’s basic psychology. You finger with your dominant hand. My dominant hand is a hook. _Ergo-_ g- just-. Great. Great! As if the pepper spray ratio weren’t already irrationally high _enough._ I’ll tell you what, soldier- let’s see here- _Corporal Shepard._ If your pet bug thing just ate my hand, I _will_ go to your funeral, find your widow, and fuck her.

"..."

"Don’t you give me that look! I _know_ the weird type of shit base wives get off from. She’d probably be down! In _fact_ ,- YOW.” 

Freeman’s not sure what he’s done, but a bright ball of electricity shot from the end of the bug. “Oh, hey! This must be some sort of gun! Did he steal it from an alien? Here- let’s-” After finagling a variety of hand movements, he found one that allowed a repeat performance. “Wow. Would you look at that. Like little concentrations of plasma. Beautiful. Well okay, that’s one alien weapon that seems to be reasonably competent. Morso than the green tasers and the bees, anyway. Ahem.” he awkwardly saluted the body. “At ease, soldier! Guess I won’t be banging your wife after all. I’d say that makes us about even.”

Now, how to go about finding more weapons? Oh who was he kidding? He’d just continue to wander around and follow the trail of death until he found some more, same as always. 

\--

Damn. Benry had been shooketh after that little display. 10/10 would watch again. At first it was a little annoying that Gordon didn’t even bother trying to make lame excuses over why he was doing crime before switching to his usual arsenal of insults. But shooting him on purpose had been new, and Benry could recognize an opportunity for a bit when he saw one. He didn’t want to do the not-dying when shot thing to win an argument _too_ early, since setting things on fire with his mind had so far done the trick. Plus, Tommy had had to explain several times already ( _so he claimed)_ about how anxious humans got when they thought their weapons didn’t work. Upsetting-level anxious. In _Tommy’s_ opinion.

But in his defense, Gordon had definitely started it this time. They’d barely gotten into it at all before he resorted to fatally shooting him. Rude. He’d thought the look on Gordon’s face would be worth it, and he was right. But as usual, the guy just couldn’t take a joke without getting extra. Trying to calm him down had just ended with Gordon running down the hall to hide in a utility closet like an idiot. It was really too bad. Benry _wanted_ to award good boy points after seeing the epic pwnage Gordon'd laid against all who crossed his path so far, but. Once a baby, always a baby, he guessed. Whatever. He was more surprised that Gordon hadn’t immediately started getting big mad at Benry about the others being gone. That was his _thing,_ right _?_ Blaming innocent security guard protector Benry for everything? 

He rubbed at his stomach absently and winced. The two-places-at-once dizzy feeling had finally gone away, but not before making his tummy hurt like hell. Felt like he’d been cut in two or something. And not a quick cut either. Like something blunt and hard pressing and crushing until his body had no choice but to _give._ Lame. Super lame. It sort of pushed him from his brief elation of getting Gordon to lose it back into his usual apathy. Well, whatever. He might as well chill until the rest of the Science Team showed up. He’d filmed Gordon’s retreat for posterity and they’d think the freak out was funny for sure. Truly one for the cringe comp. 

In the meantime, he was kickin it with his fellow security guard. Dave, according to his ID. No passport. But Benry was willing to let it slide, just this once, as a professional courtesy. _For now._ Dave had nearly been as skittish as Gordon when Benry first rolled up, but a lil sweetvoice calmed him right down. Yes, Benry safe. Benrey coworker and friend. Good friend. Dave was interesting to listen to, at first. He, too, liked to set things on fire for fun in his spare time. And he gamed, though he neither had Playstation Plus nor a voucher for a free month.

Honestly, he didn’t want to speak ill of Dave, since they were such good buddies now, but he had really acted like a little kid when he saw Benry. Screaming and shit. Like uh, what? Did he not see they were wearing the same clothing? Maybe it was all the blood. Humans were funny like that. Probably because they only had a limited amount themselves. Got all...economy about it. Set up a bank for it and everything, from what he’d heard. Weird. 

Not like money banks were any _less_ stupid. So much big deal for paper and bits of metal. Now crypto, _that_ he could understand. But-

“-llo? Benrey?”

Benry blinked and turned his head. “whu?”

Dave clicked his tongue. “I _said,_ you play the new Halo game yet?”

“nah. i only got PS3. bro.” Had Benry told him that already? Pretty sure he did. His fellow guard needed his. Uh. Ears? Checked. 

Dave chuckled. “Not sure what you’re on about, buddy! The Halo™ franchise _is_ Playstation.”

Benry's eyes widened, before narrowing into near-slits. “are you joshing me right now? tryin’ to uh. troll? you trolling? trip me up? You faking- are you even a real guard?”

Dave exhaled through his nose and shook his head, still chuckling quietly. He made a big show of stomping over to the door they were guarding and punching in the code. 

“You steal? Gonna steal from the closet?” A little teal bubbled from between Benry’s lips. “What are you doing?” He demanded, entering in after Dave just in time to see him rifling through a box. So he _was_ stealing!

Dave straightened to face Benry, holding something aloft, just in time for Benry to shoot him in the face. It was a real shame, when lawmen went bad like that. Unless it was in a cool way. GTA style. Weak trolling and petty theft were not very cool, however. 

He crouched over Dave and gave him a lick. Wrinkled his nose. Too much aftershave. That would go away after the cocooning, though. So. Didn’t matter. He started to sing teal around his meal, but the object still clutched in Dave’s hand gave him pause. It was a Halo 3 case. For Playstation.

The teal string abruptly switched to orange before petering out completely. Huh? What? Huh? Benry felt strange. Lost his appetite. This was like. Haunted house. Something wrong. Bad. Bad happenings. Okay. He needed to take a little time to think about this.

Well. Time to stare at the case, anyway. He wasn’t one for deep thought, but figured the answer would magically pop up eventually. 

A little while later, someone called out to his turned back from the doorway.

Nah. Not ‘someone’. He knew that voice.

“You didn’t claim this closet yet, right? Damn, look at this place! Are those more rockets I see? I have _got_ to call Eddie up. He’ll be able to move this stuff no problem.” The footsteps drew closer as Gordon traipsed through the room to see what he could steal. How unsurprising. Took an L by tantruming and now was back to his usual suspicious, criminal self.

“Hey, uh. You alright there? Oh, your friend died, huh. That’s too bad. For you, anyway. Listen, I’m in a good mood all of a sudden. I feel- _really_ good right now, actually. So I’m willing to go 50/50 on this. Do you know where any other stashes are? Just _look_ at this! Oh, machine guns too? Don’t mind if I do.”

Benry stood up and turned to face Gordon, who was too busy admiring an Uzi to be paying attention. He was going to feel _so_ stupid once he realized Benry had caught him in the act. He drew closer and stood on his toes to peer over Gordon’s shoulder. 

“watcha doin’ there? gordon Thiefman.” 

Gordon swung around, wide-eyed, (with _guilt,_ no doubt) and full on clocked Benry in the face. “Gah! Don’t- heywaitaminute-”

“put that back, please?” 

Instead of being sensible, Gordon started his baby routine right back up again. Shot him once, cursed, something something blow everything up blah blah blah, then started smacking Benry with his crowbar. This was getting kinda old. He opened his mouth.

“Don’t you-! _Don’t you start with the poison again._ ” He was shoving a gun muzzle into his mouth. _Wow._ “ _Don’t you do it_. I haven’t yet given up on the theory that you can feel pain! Don’t- make me test it-!”

Despite the theatrics, Gordon’s hand was pretty obviously shaking. Benry’s mouth curled into a nasty grin. His eyes looked kinda wild, too, now that he was taking the time to stare at them. Usually pretty green, now pretty crazy. Pupils dark and fat. _Bloodlusting._ It made something curl at the base of Benry’s spine, to be looked at like that.

Was Gordon _actually_ losing it? For realzies? He tried asking as much. Came out kinda shit, what with the gun in his mouth and all. 

“ _What? Excuse me?”_ The gun was shoved in farther, nearly hitting the back of Benry’s throat. He considered activating his gag reflex and throwing up all over him, just to be obnoxious. 

“I don’t recall giving you permission to speak,” Gordon snarled.

Benry grinned wider, lips curling away from his teeth, and bit clean through the muzzle.

Gordon was staring at him, bloodlust falling like a house of cards right back into fear. His mouth hung open, but all that was coming out now was a high pitch little ‘eeeeeee’. Benry liked that look on him better, he decided. 

“oooh shit. haha. fail.” Benry ran his tongue over the edges of his teeth, showing off his chompers. He grasped tightly onto Gordon’s arm. “i think it’s- time for a time out. put you in jail.”

Gordon’s face screwed up, jaw clenching. Big, big mad. Upset. Ha. But then it just. Eased. He still had a weird look in his eyes, but it wasn’t fear. Though what it was, exactly, Benry didn’t know.

“Get your filthy paws off me, you animal!” he said in a high pitch, Southern accented voice. Like some sort of lady actress in a play.

??????

What?

The next thing Benry knew, his body had slammed against the far wall, locked up and shuddering from head to toe.

Huh?! 

Shock? Electroshock? Gordon shocked Benry? His eyes began to roll up into his head. It took a lot to affect him but _that_. Had been a lot.

 _yoooo what the fuck, bro?_ Is what he would have said, if his jaw had been done locking at that point. 

At the edge of his consciousness, he could hear Gordon laugh, manically. Said something about. Uh. Something. Didn’t know. His head was kinda fuzzy. But he was raising the zappy bug again. Which. Not cool. 

Benry noclipped through the floor and curled in on himself. He groaned softly, spitting out near-transparent orbs. Prickly. Bad tingles. Great uncool.

He’d been half joking before, but as soon as he could move again it was _definitely_ Jail Time for Gordo. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you didn't get the Halo bit, the series is XBox only in our ( & his) universe. So naturally, THIS is the thing that gives Benrey pause.
> 
> Teal (of course) means need meal  
> Teal to rust, something’s sus  
> Clear like quartz, bro, this hurts! 
> 
> Freeman: 1 Benrey: 1


	3. Caramelldansen from another room (Sweetvoice remix)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy waita minute...I tink somethin scwewy is goin on awound hewe...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks a bunch again for the great response! Every comment helps to motivate me no matter how small. I live to please. Feel free to drop a comment about what you think might happen or are hoping to see. I have the next few chapters pretty well planned out, but you never know, dear reader!

This was fine, actually. 

Benry poked his head back up through the floor of the armory closet to take a look-see. An outside observer might think it not unlike a crocodile allowing its head to break the surface of a still pond. He eyeballed the area. 

Gordon had bounced already. Well, that was ok. He’d be easy to find. Benry wasn’t one for calculusing future routes, but he could always follow the sound of explosions and the unending lip flapping his pal was so fond of doing. Benry had sort of thought Gordon talked so much because he was like, obsessed with being in charge. King Littledick of Bigboy Mountain. Turns out he just liked to run his mouth in general, friends or no friends. 

Huh. Not surprising. He clipped his hands through the floor and used them to hoist himself back up into the room.

He’d stolen a lot of weapons, too. Hopefully no more zappers. That had been a wild play. Sorta unepic of him to do that. Cheating. Those things usually weren’t _that_ strong. Gordon must have used some sort of hack. Meanie. 

But who cares. Doesn’t matter. Didn’t take him long to recover. Benry wasn’t still _salty_ about it, of course. It’s not like he actually got owned. Just a lil roughhousing between friends. No bother. He wasn’t mad.

What was Gordon’s problem, anyway? He was _super_ aggro, and not in his usual whiny bitchboy way. It was real madlad hours now. Totally off his shits. Sure, he’d considered killing Benry out loud before. Raised a crowbar over Benry’s head at the sight of the guard literally just vibing on the edge of a platform. Trembled in place while hissing _shutupshutupshutUP_ under his breath like an angry little kitten. Lil tin can man- wind him up, watch him go. Wind him up, till the gears start clicking. 

But this surprise attack? Attempted phirstehgree, for sure. (Benry was glad Law & Order was constantly playing in the guards’ break room. Neat job tutorial). When Gordon got to the point of trying to murder him for real, he’d sorta been hoping for a crymowpashone. That seemed more his speed. Totally red faced and yelling and mad. Sweaty. This felt different. Something about Gordon’s face in general was off. Skin patterns were exactly the same, _scent_ the same, but. Poisonous vibes. Near black-eyed. Feral.

Made Benry get all shivery just picturing him. He hummed a single note of candy red. It left a suddenly dry mouth in its wake.

Nice.

Oh. _Oh._ Benry licked his lips and adjusted his tie.

Was that what the look was? Horniness? Hot for Benny Boy? Been a while since he and Gordon had any alone time. Tension must be ramping back up. But, well. His direct attacks had always been nerfed to shit whenever he tried to argue with Benry. Never stopped him from trying, though. Made not reacting that much funnier. Like he was a failure even at speaking words right. Poor weak little human couldn’t even pitchflirt good. Dumbest MIT grad on the planet. 

But now he was putting his bigbrain to work. At least as far as tryharding stuff. Maybe his head got too swollen without the others keeping him in line. Made him up the ante. Stop being chicken. The zap had been pretty uh. Spicy, now that he thought about it. This must be the ‘signals’ his buddies were always talking about. Affection. Affecting. Basically the same word. Trying ( _and failing_ ) to merc Benry for real was making Gordon seem kinda... 

“gay,” he muttered to himself. He couldn’t suppress his grin.

 _Yeah._ Yes. He liked that better. Well. If he’d wanted a playdate so bad, he could’ve just asked. Now Benry had to go do his job and detain him. He was still on the clock. Should’ve waited til he punched out before starting some real shit. 

So. Back to business. He put his hands on his hips and surveyed the crime scene.

Poor Dave had been left on the floor. So sad. Totally fucked up of Gordon to leave him there like that. Refusal to press F. Zero respect. 

Would it be weird to eat him anyway? Yeah, maybe. Kill wasn’t fresh nomore. Besides, Benry had another job in mind. He sang until the body was covered in a fine layer of sweetvoice. Dave’s flesh and blood melted away to nothing, scattering into the air as tiny pixels, until only his bones remained. 

The skeleton sat up and looked at Benry expectantly. 

“yo.” Benry greeted him. “check it.” the skeleton raised its bony hands in front of itself and turned them over, empty eye sockets peering down at them in mute acceptance. 

“welcome back, bone-bro. got a side mission for yah.”

Benry had yet to meet a human who liked having a skeleton following them around. Not one of them could stand it. Not even a little bit. This was extra silly since humans carried around a personal skeleton inside of themselves at all times. Nothing was funnier than targeted haunting. Top Ten Epic Pranks of All Time, Not Clickbait. Gordon was gonna freak. Possibly catch a case of the crumbles. Fun for Benry no matter what.

 _Then_ it was jailtime.

\--

 _“Yessssss,”_ Freeman hissed, sprinting back down the hall. “’M gonna getcha. That was smart of you for running! How _unfortunate_ no one on my shit list _ever_ gets away!” He spotted the tank from earlier through a passing window and skidded to a stop. “Case in point!” he said jovially, loading up his rocket launcher. “I haven’t forgotten about _you_ either, don’t worry.” One pull of the trigger and it was little more than a pile of flaming scrap metal. He sighed wistfully. Soon Benrey would be going to the same place he’d just sent that guy. “I’m not really the sentimental type, but....actually, no. I’m really not.” 

Alright, that’s enough of that. He didn’t know how long he had before Benrey would quit being incapacitated, and he honestly wasn’t sure how many other chances he’d get. But that was loser talk, because Benrey _would_ be down there and he _would_ get shocked as many times as Freeman deemed fit. He practically leapt down the stairs in his haste to get back down to the first floor, though. Just in case.

He burst through the entrance, bug zapper drawn and lips pulled back from teeth in a pre-emptive sneer. “Hands where I can see them, motherfucker! You have the right to remain- _hmmmmmmmrrrrrrrrrrauugggghhhhhhhh!”_

Of course. Of-fucking-course. How foolish of Freeman to assume his luck might be turning! _Of course_ Benrey wouldn’t be there. It’s as if Freeman had learned nothing about the dangers of hope thus far.

“What the hell? He went through the floor! This ceiling is on the other side of that floor!!” He gestured as much with the gun “ He didn’t just melt into a puddle up there, did he? He didn’t! He _definitely_ phased through. And now he’s up again, _strolling around_ , because the deities on _my_ side didn’t cut to the chase as fast as the deities on _his_ side. Well, thanks a lot, _whoeverthefuck!_ You made it so the perfect weapon to take him down would fall into my lap, but couldn’t make it stop him for another thirty seconds? _Great_ job!” 

He stood there for a moment, fuming. His high was beginning to come down from its peak and he wasn’t willing to contemplate what his future was going to hold with this failure _quite_ yet. An absence of evidence versus evidence of absence, and all that.

“Maybe he can turn invisible?” he shot a few bullets around but that didn’t result in any sudden appearance of blood splatter or pained grunting. “No...maybe he...morphed into a chair?” The furniture pieces and crates all splintered, no problem. “Hm. That’s a compelling counterargument. But I’m not _entirely_ convinced.” He flung satchel charges around the room before practically galloping out, swearing he could feel that freak’s teeth right at the back of his neck. Setting off the resulting explosion shook the building at its very foundations. A beam fell across the entrance, effectively sealing him from re-entering. “Okay, I don’t know how much good that really did, since he can apparently _walk through walls,”_ he kept his teeth grit to stop from all out screaming. How powerful an entity was he facing here? “But on the off chance he was unconscious down there and I missed him, then maybe, _maybe_ that did something. And since nothing _ever_ goes right for me, there is absolutely no way that’s the case. 

Now that he had a brief moment to stop and think, he quickly went over the events again: the soldiers. The zapper. The rare unlocked door ajar. The weapons. The dead guy on the floor. Benrey leaning over the body, still as a stone. Silent. Waiting.

“My god, can he read my mind?!” he asked with dawning horror. “I expected him to be following me, but how the FUCK did he know I would enter that armory? He killed that other guy, who was probably originally guarding it, and was planning to take his place to get the jump on me! G- I fell right into his trap! He probed my mind during our first meeting and knew a closet full of unattended heavy weaponry was exactly the bait needed to entice me! Like a spider in a _fucking_ web. And I was the _fly._ ”

“Ok, think, Freeman.” His eyes darted around the side alleyway he was standing in. He was expecting to run around until he found Benrey, but Benrey had found _him._ Meaning he either had psychic abilities that allowed him to predict what route Freeman would take, _and_ that he would stop to investigate an open closet door, _and_ that an open door to a room full of weapons in particular would make him lower his guard long enough for Benrey to _rip his face off._ OR. He was smart enough to engineer events in such a way that would nudge Freeman right to him. He gnashed his teeth. “Gah! Okay, fine! If you’re going to pop back up in front of me like the world’s most demonic jack in a box the second I so much as blink for too long, then I’m not going anywhere! YOU THINK YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN ENGINEER A TRAP? YOU HAVEN’T SEEN ANYTHING YET.” 

Outside, he could use the rocket launcher. He’d taken out tanks and helicopters with that thing. Benrey evidently wasn’t a ghost, right? A ghost wouldn’t be stopped by any gun, even an organic plasma-shooting alien one. 

“Oh, you fucked up there,” Freeman said, a nasty smile on his lips. He took out a claymore and surveyed his near surroundings for a good spot to place it. Inched along slowly, back to the wall. Which he’d already established didn’t matter, since Benrey could walk through walls. But whatever. Shut up. He craned his neck up to look at the sliver of sky above as he progressed, gun pointed at the surrounding ledges. Can’t be too careful. Might have a voyeur.

“You just demonstrated _concrete evidence_ that you can feel pain. That means you can learn. Aaaaany animal can learn with enough pain. It was all behaviorists cared about studying back in the 70’s and 80’s.” his back hit a door. He reached a hand behind himself to jiggle the handle. Not locked? 

He half turned toward the door, heart in his throat, gun pointed over his shoulder. “You’re just a bad dog and my zapper is the rolled up newspaper! What the- the handle’s moving but the door’s stuck! That’s cheating!” 

There was a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye. Benrey?! He turned back around and lit it up without a second thought. And then fucking. Stared down at a skeleton. An honest to god, Halloween decoration-ass skeleton. 

“WHAT?” 

The skeleton did not reply. “I... might actually be losing it for real.” His eyes were so wide he could feel them bulging out of his head. Like a fucking. Shocked cartoon character. He was surprised the outline of a cartoon heart wasn’t visibly thumping out of his chest right now.

“I can still see blast burns though,” he wheezed. He extended the toe of his boot out, not quite touching it. There was no way this was real, but he didn’t want to take the chance of it suddenly grabbing onto his ankle to drag him down to hell. They couldn’t get him _that_ easy! The Dark Prince had yet to fulfill his end of the contract. 

“How strong was that amphetamine shot? I’m entering psychosis. _Fuck._ This is the _last_ thing I need right now. Those god damned speedhead admin-! Why are the scorch marks smoking? If it’s not real then why is it _smoking_ , hallucinations should _not_ be this thermodynamically accurate! I don’t know what’s-”

He spun around in tight circles in a panic. Stop it. You look like a headless chicken. He really was going to go the way of his countless coworkers at this rate. He was _better_ than this. He needed to stop internally gibbering like a loon and _do something._ Breathe. In and out. In. And out.

“...I need to get out of here,” he finally surmised. “Find a less skeleton-infested outdoor area to lay my traps.” A skeletonless outdoor area with enough room to launch an RPG which isn’t also infested with aliens or soldiers. Or Benrey already waiting for him. “This’ll be easy,” he laughed sarcastically, clambering onto a dumpster and taking a running leap onto a ladder hanging off the side of the bombed-out building.

“Easy-peasy. Mac n’ cheesy. Bash in your knees-y.” He sang, hoisting himself onto the rooftop. He crouched, still humming under his breath as he peeked through the new bombed-out hole in the middle of the building. “Alright. Let’s see what we got down here.” there was a flicker of red underneath one of the awnings. “ Oop! I saw that, you rascal!” 

More soldiers. How original. Freeman wondered if they had been ordered to guard the shell of an empty building for some inane purpose, or whether the bombers hadn’t bothered to evacuate them in the first place. In his experience, both stupid reasons were equally likely. Shooting down at them from vantage point was like fish in a barrel. 

That taken care of, he paced along the ledge, eyeing the shadows of the caved in rooms below suspiciously. “Okay, well. I don’t _see_ any more skeletons or undead security guards. I guess I can rework this into some sort of death pit, then climb back onto the roof and herd him into it once he inevitably reappears. Didn’t think I’d be saying this, but I sort of wish I was back in one of those flooded rooms or shark tanks. Could’ve fried his ass Gremlins-style. Oh well!” 

“So, let’s say if, and that’s a _big if_ , the skeleton was real. First off, how was it moving without any muscle...or tendons... or organs? Now, it _could_ just be Benrey shapeshifting into something creepy to fuck with me. And I _did_ down it with the zapper, which has been established as a suitable weapon for this particular entity. So did the first shot make everything _but_ the skeleton disintegrate? I dunno, he seemed pretty put together besides for the whole paralysis thing.” He tugged at a metal frame sticking out of broken concrete, but it didn’t budge. Hm. Maybe the death pit would have to be Plan B. He was gonna go ahead and move the rocket launcher back to Plan A. He supposed he could set up some smaller traps while he was down here, though.

“I suppose his flesh could have disintegrated _after_ he went through the floor...or maybe the bomb actually did him in.” Okay, if Benrey showed up _here_ , it would make the most sense to set up the claymores _there._ “But in _that_ case, why not just wait until he regenerated all the way?” And if his skeleton was durable enough to survive a close explosion and building collapse, why would a _zap_ be able to kill it dead? “I guess there are too many unknown variables still at play here, considering I don’t even know what he _is._ We’ll go ahead and table that discussion for now.” Actually, what was he doing? If a grenade didn’t really affect him, why did Freeman think a single bomb would do any better? He ought to stick to what he knew might work. There _was_ some exposed wiring...but...he was in a metal suit. Hmm.

“Ok, theory two: this is a ghost incident unrelated to Benrey. Let’s be honest, I’ve made a _lot_ of people’s final moments angry and painful enough to justify sticking around to make me suffer.” Actually, you know what? He was going to set up a net booby trap. Benrey was still solid most of the time. So in theory, if Freeman could distract him and walk him into the trap at the same time, he should be able to buy himself long enough to zap him or blow him up. Or both, just to make sure. Considering he could be affected by things on the material plane, Freeman could probably get away with planting strategic explosives that would basically push him toward the net trap, _then_ distract him while making him trigger it at the same time, _then_ use the zapper. That’s doable!

“ _Or-_ how about _this?_ I’ve pissed a _wizard_ off, and they’re using _magic_ to puppet the skeleton around. I almost hope that this is the correct answer, if only because it proves the existence of magic.” It’d tie into the mythological hero narrative as well. Magic’s harnessable, right? Presumably, it used _some_ sort of energy source. And even if humanity hasn’t yet technologically progressed to the point where he _could_ harness that energy, it wasn’t necessarily hopeless. “Most sigils and spell circles are accessible on the net these days! I’ll have to practice my chanting though. _Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhta-”_

The double doors to Freeman’s left slammed open to reveal another skeleton. He’ll admit, he might have shrieked a tad high that time. He reflexively shot it with the pulse gun he was holding, and was pleasantly surprised to find that the skeleton was as weak to bullets as humans and aliens were. 

“Okay, so I’m guessing it definitely isn’t a ghost then,” he said once he caught his breath. “And I _know_ you-know-who wouldn’t have been affected. I _guess_ that just leaves magic! Did my chanting summon it? _Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn?”_

A new skeleton did not appear.

“Guess not! What a shame, that would have been a neat party trick. So is this a different skeleton, or the same one from before? Hard to tell. I’ll admit, I’m not the best at recognizing faces even when there’s still flesh on ‘em.” Well, might as well negate the risk. He threw a grenade at its feet and took cover. At the very least, if it was the same one he had just inconvenienced whoever was controlling it by blowing it apart like that. 

“I’m getting ahead of myself here. One planned murder at a time.” He hopped back to the roof using some cool parkour tricks he was almost sorry no one else could see. Once situated with crates for cover, he cleared his throat.

“Oh _Benrey~_ Come out to _play~”_

Silence. No observable activity. If the move was to wait Freeman out, it was the wrong one to make. He’d been running around constantly, he _liked_ being able to sit still for once. 

“ _Benreyyyyy~”_ he called louder. “ _Come out to pla-ayyyy~”_

There was the sound of someone climbing the ladder from behind Freeman. He watched in near disbelief as a familiar helmet-clad head popped up.

“yeah? what’s up, man?”

Huh. He’d sort of expected a much grander entrance at this point. Benrey had no sense of showmanship. And he looked as bored as ever. Cool! No point of getting insulted about it, right? It said more about Benrey’s intelligence than about Freeman’s efficiency. Whatever, he could still run with it.

“you got credentials to be here?”

Here? As in, the bombed out shell of a warehouse in the middle of a warzone? Amazing how it was still so hard to tell whether Benrey was fucking with him. It’s like he had the cognitive process of a machine learning AI. No regard for context or mood.

Benrey was walking closer at a casual pace, no weapon drawn. Not that he’d need one. Freeman took aim and slid his finger on the trigger.

“You know something? I do! I found my passport. Isn’t that _great_?”

Benrey stopped. Although the top half of his face was covered, Freeman could swear he was raising an eyebrow. “huh? you do? can i take a look, please?” 

“I would _love_ to show it to you! But, wouldn’t you know it, I dropped it into that pit below.”

Benrey crossed his arms and smirked. “oh. really. you’re scared? you’re uh, too chicken to go down there?” Oh good, he really was the non-human version of a power tripping prick after all.

“I sure am! _Officer._ I _sure_ am.”

For whatever reason, that had the opposite of the intended effect. Benrey’s face shuttered completely. He stared at Freeman for a long moment. Then drew his weapon.

“...Who ARE you?”

Oh well! Who was Freeman to refuse such an opening? 

“ _I’m Gordon FUCKING Freeman, bitch!”_ he roared, and opened fire. 

Benrey holstered his weapon and began speedwalking towards Freeman’s location regardless of being fired upon, mouth open in an almost operatic song. A stream of blue to green bubbles flew from his mouth.

“Oh, shit! Not the balls,” Freeman cursed, retreated from his spot. “Okay, Plan A!”

The rocket he launched hit true, and Benrey’s body was blown from the edge down into the pit. 

“Yeah!!!” Freeman pumped his fist. “Is he dead?!” 

Benrey’s body remained limp and ragdolled. “Why not make sure? Let me just- shit.” The bug wasn’t zapping. He hit it against his palm like a bad TV remote. “It’s out of plasma juice. Good thing I have another tried and true method.” He took aim with the launcher again. 

Before he could double tap Benrey, however, a bony hand fell on his wrist. Freeman almost dropped it in his haste to get away from the skeleton, and while he got some good crowbar licks in, it managed to hit him right in the face with blue again.

“So it _was_ Benrey,” he said faintly, stumbling over the ledge himself. 

\--

He must have briefly lost consciousness when he fell. He sat up with a groan. Lucky he’d had a stack crates to break his fall, otherwise he would’ve gotten brained on the pavement. From the look of things he hadn’t been out for long. Unfortunately, it had been long enough for Benrey to wake up as well. 

They stared at each other in a daze for a moment. Freeman leapt to his feet and drew the zapper. It’s not like Benrey would know it was out, right?

Benrey got up at a more leisurely pace and dusted himself off. He gave Freeman a rather disinterested once-over. “whatcha got- stop shooting me, please?”

Presumably he meant stop aiming at him. Freeman gestured toward where the trap was located, not trusting himself to do much else. “Get over there and I won’t!” 

He was feeling a little woozy again. The blue must have negated the rest of the drug. He wouldn’t have much time.

“huh- why? what’s over there? why do you want me over there?”

So, he wasn’t a _complete_ moron. A welcome change of pace, in nearly any other circumstance. 

Benrey advanced on him again. Freeman’s shout of _Stay back!_ fell on deaf ears. He couldn’t shoot the launcher here because of the claymores...shit. Freeman, you _idiot._ You played yourself! Moron! Every time he got a little cocky, some new thing would come out of the woodwork to teach him a lesson! 

“what did you do?” Benrey asked, breathing heavily and suddenly sounding a lot more menacing. “my friends…”

“Your friends?” Did he mean the aliens? The soldiers? Other guards? The _skeletons_? The answer was ‘I killed them’ regardless, but something told Freeman that wasn’t the right thing to say. He settled for “Uhhhhhh.” 

“you kill them?” Shit. God dangity fuckshit christ on a cracker. 

“Hmmm,” Freeman replied wittily. “I...don’t...know?”

He was still aiming the zapper at Benrey, moreso because he wasn’t sure what else to do. Couldn’t blow him up. Bullets don’t work. Hitting him doesn’t work. No real point running from something he knew was fast as fuck. He assumed Benrey must have figured out the zapper was dead, otherwise why wouldn’t he have used it by now? 

So it was surprising when he suddenly stopped, gaze avidly fixed on something behind Freeman’s shoulder. He drew his guard-issued pistol and aimed at it. What was it? Something behind him? Freeman chanced a quick look. 

A pigeon? 

“What’re you…” Was it something _disguised_ as a pigeon, perhaps? Another shifter? It _might_ be a useful ally in that case, but honestly Freeman would prefer not to risk dying trying to protect a regular bird. That would just be _embarrassing._

What _was_ concerning, he quickly realized, was that the pigeon was resting on a box labelled ‘Explosives’ in bright orange font. And considering the cramped space, there was a good chance it would start a chain reaction. 

“Don’t-” he started, fumbling for another gun. That was as far as he got. The new dose of blue and the fall had made him sloppy. 

There was a shot, a bang, and then everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Freeman. You're not assuming you got lucky enough to die, are you?
> 
> Your eyes did not deceive you, there WAS a h*mest*ck reference in there. I refuse to apologize for it.  
> candy red, want you in bed  
> blue to green, time to be mean
> 
> Freeman:1 Benrey:2


	4. 24 hour livestream peeper puppy nursery cam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A battle of wills commences between Gordon “The Mind” Freeman and Benry “The Guard” BenryBenryBenryBenry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yall Im really excited about this chapter and looking forward to the yelling in the comments. Much love of course to all who give their Thoughts you’re the real mvps I legit wouldn’t be able to go this hard without you. Also shout out the other creators making gordonverse or gordonswap or freeman’s mind content I’m shy but definitely gulping down that sweet sweet juice. Here’s to staying hydrated!

_Freeman stood in a desolate, empty field. The ground beneath his feet was fleshy. Tumor-like. Gross. Hair-like flora about the height of his knee were peppered around at random, waving back and forth from an unfelt breeze. There was a persistent, faint buzzing sound coming from seemingly nowhere and everywhere simultaneously._

_“Where the…” Freeman looked around, but it seemed like more of the same in all directions. The sky was a yawning chasm above him, starless. “How am I able to see right now? Oh, the ground itself must be glowing. Nice. Well this is a mildly interesting dream. I’m willing to give points for basic creativity. I can already tell it’s going to be boring if there’s not much more to it, though.” Was his imagination that deficient? He needed to start smoking DMT on the weekends again._

“Dr Freeman…” _a voice rang out from the heavens._

_“Yeah?” He responded irritably. “Is that you, God? Got something to say to me?”_

_There was a chuckle. A door-shaped portal opened up in front of Freeman from out of nowhere. A pale man in a sharp-pressed black suit and a briefcase stepped out. “Oh. I guess not. God wouldn’t make Himself look like that. He doesn’t have a sense of humor.” Not that kind of humor, anyway. He looked like a corporate type. Maybe government- FBI, CIA. So. More likely The Devil, then._

_The man gave him a thin lipped smile as if privy to the joke, eyes like two chips of ice._ “Dr. Freeman...it’s so good to...finally meet you.”

_“It sure is.”_

“I was origina...lly planning on...saving our chat...for a further leg of your journey. Circumst...ances...have changed...however.” 

_“Ah, yes. I understand what you mean.” He had no god damn clue. Not that he could really be to blame for that. Could this guy be any more vague? ‘Circumstances’- yeah, okay. He’s been fighting a new “”””circumstance”””” every five minutes for the past three days. He’s doing this on purpose. No introduction or nothing. Lord his knowledge over Freeman, why doesn’t he? He didn’t appreciate the metaphorical burlap sack. This guy is a spook. Has to be._

“My benefactors did...not…fully grasp the...capabilities...of this new entity…initially.”

_“What entity?”_

“It is not...of th...is universe.”

_“That doesn’t really narrow it down for me, pal.”_

“But you...have al...ways been...one to ‘roll with the punches’...hm?”

_“Okay, fine. Ignore my simplistic need for basic information. See how far that gets you.”_

“I have reset several...shall we say...parameters. Of course...you under...stand, as a businessman. Everyth...ing...has its price...”

 _He wasn’t even going to ask what any of that meant. “Hey, I have a better idea! Why don’t you pull some strings to put me on a private jet to Hawaii, and in return for that AND a generous check I_ **_won’t_ ** _leak this clusterfuck to the press. Now, I know what you’re thinking. But I’ve been expecting an assassination attempt for years now. Does the name ‘Jeffery Epstein’ ring any bells? You’ll let me go if you don’t want my killswitch activat-”_

“The rest...is solely...in your hands...Until next time...Dr. Freeman.” 

_“What?!” The spook ignored him and turned back towards the void door. “OH- oh, I see. You’re just going to say a bunch of cryptic bullshit and disappear again. Nice. Thanks for that.”_

_Aaaand he’s gone. Well that was useless and uncomfortable. This dream was feeling a little too real all of a sudden. He’s getting some serious MK-Ultra vibes._

_“So am I supposed to just stand here, or…” he took another look around. Yep. Still nothing. And behind him was a...skeleton._

_“Uh.” It stood a little ways away, silent. Almost seemed to be staring, if not for its empty eye sockets. Not that Freeman was complaining. The only thing worse than a sentient skeleton was a sentient skeleton that still had its eyeballs._

_“...Hi. Woah!” The skeleton had pulled a rifle from seemingly out of nowhere. Freeman held his hands up placatingly. “Let’s all just...be cool now...”_

_It took aim past Freeman’s shoulder but did not yet fire. There had been Nothing there last Freeman had looked, but it seemed this dream was following nightmare logic now. He was going to turn back around to find something terrifying. He just knew it._

_“Alright,” he grumbled. Might as well get this over with._

_“Wha- okay. I was_ **_not_ ** _expecting that.” A giant pigeon loomed over him like a feathery Godzilla. It peered down its beak at him with beady black eyes. He backed away from it._

_“That...could be terrifying, I guess. Doesn’t really fit the setting, though. Wait…” The pigeon had done little more than ruffle its feathers, but Freeman caught the sight of something tucked underneath each of its wings. “That looks like a...uh…” The background buzzing noise was growing incrementally louder. The pigeon twisted its neck to groom itself and Freeman got another peek._

_“That’s a nuclear warhead.I dunno about-”_

_There was the distinct sound of a rifle cocking behind him. Freeman whipped around to the skeleton, eyes widening. The buzzing noise was becoming almost deafening._

_“DON’T-”_

_\--_

“-SHOOT IT, YOU RET- _guh_ ”, Freeman’s diaphragm stopped him from finishing the command. Evidently he still needed air in his lungs to scream. 

That was promising! It implied he still had workable lungs in the first place. He. He was _alive!_

Excellent. Where was he? He stared up at the concrete ceiling. Back indoors, from the looks of it. Last he remembered he had forced a confrontation with that security guard...and...a skeleton? Something with a pigeon. Those _had_ to be false memories leaking in from his dream though. There’s no way. That buzzing noise was still there though...were his eardrums blown out? Maybe he _had_ been caught in an explosion. 

He sat up with a grunt. “Suit doesn’t look _too_ damaged...I’m not in any pain…yet.” He could still use some oxy right about now, though. “I don’t _seem_ to be in a field hospital. Feel kinda dizzy. Is there something wrong with the ligh- _hey!_ Wait a minute! I’ve been here!” He was in a small, fenced-in area. A lone dog crate was lying on its side in the far corner. The buzzing noise was the hum of electricity running through the bars. This was the kennel for the puntable green squeak things he had climbed up into after navigating through the Nightmare Factory! So had he been dreaming everything that happened after that? Where did the corpses of those squeaky little maggots go?

“Okay, once I get out of here it _better_ be a nice straight path out of Black Mesa. If I didn’t do any of that other crap for real yet I’m going on a murderspree. Even the scientists! I’ll- carve out a pair of eyeballs for the retinal scans! Or something.” Oh, who was he kidding? Even a murder spree wouldn’t cheer him up if that were the case. This _sucks!_ Something bigger than his comprehension could grasp was torturing him for its own amusement. _He_ should be the one doing that to _others_ , damn it! The roles were all wrong! It wasn’t fair!

He heaved a long, dramatic sigh. Well. Time to break out _again_ , he guessed. 

“Now lets see. Last time I just- wh-?” The hanging light fixture he had used to jump to the other side of the fence was gone. Not removed. Gone. An untouched slab of concrete. Freeman leapt to his feet, fully awake now.

“I _know_ I didn’t imagine that. Hey! The sewage grate I used to climb into here isn’t here either!” He reached for his crowbar and was met with empty air. His weapons were gone too?! “ _What’s going on?”_

There was the sound of someone smacking their lips from the other side of the fence. Freeman whipped around toward it. A lone security guard was leaning up against the wall directly facing him. How had he missed that?! There was something _seriously_ off with his eyesight. What was it? Why was his brain lagging? Had he hit his head again?

Freeman squinted through his glasses ( _that_ wasn’t the problem. So then what-?) It was hard to make out his features. His head was tilted down, casting most of his face in the deep shadow of the arcing electric glow. Even so, the man was unmistakable.

 _“Benrey,”_ Freeman hissed.

Benrey looked up, as if noticing he was there for the first time. “oh, hey. you’re awake,” he said casually.

Freeman opened his mouth to let a choice insult fly but stopped short. His body froze in place, stance aggressive and finger pointed accusingly at his captor. White hot pain had suddenly cut into the top left part of his face.

With the remnants of sleep behind him and the initial adrenaline rush rapidly fading away, pain had been progressively making its over serialized return appearance. Freeman was back to feeling the too-familiar ache all over from lying on the floor, the burn is his limbs that came from any too-intense workout, the rawness of his throat that came from screaming all day. He’d _thought_ he’d worked through the withdrawl cramping, but that had made a re-appearance too. _Sure._ Why not.

 _This_ was a whole other deal. It started from his eye and laced backward into his skull. Freeman swore he could feel the exact fractured, branching neural pain pathways that were lighting up. If his muscles weren't completely locked he’d probably vomit. 

The worst of it, though. The WORST. Was that the new pain had basically acted as a giant, lit up arrow that pointed Freeman to the fact that _HEY! DUMBASS! HALF YOUR VISUAL FIELD IS MISSING!_

\--

Benry thought he had made an oopsie with that explosion. The imposter Gorden - the not-Gordon- has really flatlined for a minute there. Looks like _someone_ forgot to activate godmode. But then his corpse had faded from existence. So. Must be respawning elsewhere. 

Exactly where, he didn’t know. Previous autosaved checkpoint? It was going to send not-Gordon backwards on the map, he knew that much. That’s usually how it worked with unmodded humans. Seemed like needless work to him. Whoever was in charge of resurrection had a mean streak. He just hoped it was near biolabs, they had cages in there anyway.

On his short trek back he figured he might as well Sherlock Holmes this bitch. Things had been sus since the canyon, but not highkey enough to ring any alarm bells. Kinda like that epic prank where you move all the furniture by two inches. Not-Gordon being all fake agreeable had cinched it, though. Gordon he knew couldn't lie for shit. Would've point blank been like _Ahhh I'm not a chicken shut up! Gonna be a baby and try and kill you with my lame bigbrain trap_ _!_ or whatever. This one's a copy. But if he was jumping through map entry points anyway, why not take a lil peek at the source code to make sure? The threads of reality were part of basic specs anyway. No biggie. 

Which is how he found out he was in an au. A No Benry au, so. Already bad timeline. Very sad. Spam pepehands in the chat, please. It also blocked not-Gordon from keeping any mutuals. Probably why he acted so whack. Bet he was sadboicore on the dl, all _abloo bloo bloo, why does everyone leave me? W_ _as_ still Gordon Freeman, after all. Tube man and cyborg were...hm. How could he put this. 404'd in the playable code. And poor Tommy's file was 403'd. That wasn’t very nice. Uncool that so much could change due to job scheduling. Wrong place, wrong time. Pushed back to spam folder. Why did au Black Mesa admin have to go and do them like that? 

They’d ruined it. Everything was wrong, wrong, _wrong._

But how could he even get back to where he’d come from? Through Xen, maybe. He’d really rather not. Too much drama going on out there. Besides, digging his claws in was more his style. He'd installed the right tool package. He could make this work. He _would_ make this work. 

\--

He eventually found not-Gordon in the tunnel outside of biolabs. _Could_ just sit around and wait for him to wake up. But he’d probably just be cringe and hit Benry again. And he still deserved a time out. Don’t get it twisted, Benry’s reducing the sentence to make up for killing him. But he wouldn’t have died in the first place if he hadn’t set up all those explosives, soooo…

Here they are.

Not-Gordon had stopped doing anything at all after noticing him. Frozen. Glitched? The silence continued to stretch.

Benry cleared his throat. “you uh. got a cat in your mouth? plead the fifth? guilty?”

That seemed to snap him out of it. Not-Gordon slapped a hand over his left eye and curled in on himself with a whine. He went motionless again, breathing heavily. Benry was about to prompt him again when he whipped his head back up. “What the fuck,” he hissed. “Did you _bLIND ME?_ ”

“wuh?” Benry leaned forward and squinted at him. Now that he mentioned it, it _had_ looked a little fucked up when Benry had found him. “something happen to your eye there? look through a uh, telescope too much with it? idiot?”

Not- Gordon tensed up so tightly he looked like he might pop. It was hard to see most of his face, but his other eye was glaring at Benry mega hard and a vein was standing out on the side of his neck. _Nice._

 _“DON’T fuck with me,”_ not-Gordon growled in that same bloodlusting voice from earlier. Benry swore he could feel the other man’s urge to tear his throat out from six feet away. _“You think you can say whatever to_ **_ME_ ** _? I’LL KILL YOU.”_

Oh, man. Benry would like to open the cell door right then and there and see him try. The guy was _frothing._ His hatred felt practically _electric._ Should he? Let not-Gordon try and choke him out, bash his head in? Till he cried from being fail so much? 

Nah, better keep playing it cool. Unfortunately for not-Gordon, Benry had already mastered the strats from playing with real-Gordon. He leaned back against the wall with a heavy-lidded look.

“calm down. it’s not even a big deal.”

His Gordon would have _really_ lost it at that. But this one didn’t. His eye twitched and darted around rapidly at first, but then he. Did what Benry said? His whole body relaxed at once, but the bad vibes hung around him still. Weird.

“Oh, I’m _calm,”_ he said, voice measured and stilted. “I’m _chill_.”

Interesting choice of move. “good. thanks. you _should_ listen,” he pressed. 

Not-Gordon ignored that and gestured around the cage with his free hand. “So wha-at’s - _aw, Jesus, fuck_ \- the plan here?”

“huh?” 

He rolled his eye. “You’re not on a mission to kill me, obviously, and you haven’t delivered me to anyone else. But you know who I am, because you greeted me by name.”

“oh? yeah. i know you.” 

Not-Gordon raised his eyebrows at him and stared for a long moment. “Are you really this big an oaf?” he snapped. “It should be clear that I’m waiting for you to elaborate. E-la-bor-ate. Do you even know what that word _means?_ Cause I’ll be honest,” he cut himself off to take a few more deep breaths. “considering the position you’ve put me in I’m more than willing to dumb it down for you!” 

Benry furrowed his brows. “i’m not dumb,” he corrected. 

“Could’ve fooled me!”

“huh? you’re a fool, then?”

“...No, I-”

“you just admitted it, though.”

There was a beat.

“This is _exactly_ what I’m talking about.” there was some real spiciness laced in his voice, but he overall kept it at measured contempt. “Don’t you understand? You’re just proving my point! You can’t understand words good because you’re as dumb as a box of rocks. You’ve given _no_ evidence to prove otherwise since the moment we’ve met. I could tell from how slack your jaw was even before you opened your mouth for the first time. All _Duh durrr can I see your passport?”_

“you were staring at my mouth? pretty sus.” Benry cut in. He grinned wide enough to show the points of his teeth and ran the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip. “like what you see?”

Not-Gordon’s jaw snapped shut. He took a step back from the fence and turned with jerky movements to look around the cage again, from the scattered bone remains littering the floor, to the water bowl, to the crate. He stared at the dog crate for a long moment before turning his gaze back to Benry. His face looked _way_ pale all of a sudden. Could humans change color too? 

“Um…” he stuttered. Swallowed. “You’re not...no. I mean- are you…”

“huh?” He meant it this time, too. What was he getting at? “why’re you staring at the crate so much?” he demanded. “planning to steal it?” 

Not-Gordon shook his head rapidly. Too fast to mean ‘no’, really. After another unreadable look, his face hardened and he moved his hand from his busted eye to press at his forehead. He sighed loud enough to be way dramatic. _“Un_ believable,” he groaned. “ _Every_ alien I’ve come into contact with has been a point in the column _against_ the theory of intelligent life on other planets.”

Benry was starting to get tired of this no u dumb bit. Not-Gordon was like, less than a baby compared to him. Like those little flesh beans still growing in a human propagator’s clutch. That line of insult was _major_ weaksauce. Git gud.

“oh yeah?” he shot back. “if that’s true, then how did i catch you? seems like you’re the dumb one here.”

Not-Gordon found that super funny. Like his retort had been complete topkek. He burst into a high pitch and intense typa laughing fit. Benry wrinkled his nose. He’d thought _real-Gordon_ had been too emotional, but this one was bouncing through moods like 3D Pinball: Space Cadet. 

“why are you laughing?” Not at _him,_ surely.

Not-Gordon continued to cackle instead of answering. He doubled over until his hands nearly touched the ground, body shaking. Shady and sus af. Benry stalked over to the fence. “Why’re you laughing? Huh? Why’re y _-_ ”

He shot up. Something snagged Benry’s tie and pulled his face against the fence with a harsh tug. “ow ow ow ow ow,” he deadpanned as tens of thousands of volts coursed through him. It _did_ kind of sting, to be honest. “stop that, please?”

Not-Gordon missed his chance to stop, so Benry pulled away himself. A piece of broken ribcage clattered to the ground at his feet. How had he- nah, he didn’t even care. Not like it did much. As he re-adjusted his tie and smoothed his hair away from where it was stuck to the inside of his helmet, he could hear not-Gordon still chuckling. Meanly. Whatever.Benry just won by having his point proven anyway. This was _exactly_ why he was in time out in the first place. Could he go five minutes without griefing new friend Benry, please? 

Enough’s enough. He sang blue at him. He heard a gulp and the chuckling stopped. When he looked back up, not-Gordon had gone slack but had the nastiest look on his face. 

“Let’s get one thing straight,” he snarled. “You only _think_ you’ve caught me. But the truth is, _I’m_ the one who caught _you. I’m_ going to break _you._ You just haven’t realized it yet.”

Benrey glanced pointedly at the spot where not-Gordon’s feet were standing. “ _you_ caught _me_? look at the side of the fence you’re on, bro. i think you’re just salty about losing.” 

Not-Gordon inhaled loudly through his nose. “When I get out of here, I’m going to skin you alive,” he said on the exhale. His tone was eerily calm, almost sing-song. Hands hanging at his sides. Head tilted so the light reflected off of his glasses like uh. The dad from NGE. 

“ _Then_ once it grows _back_ , I’ll do it again! I’ll divide the work into daily sections to stagger the schedule, too. Then I’ll lock you in the tiniest tank I can stuff you in and find a way to force those poison balls out of you.You’ll be like one of those snakes that get milked for venom .” 

He was speaking faster now, getting louder. Voice had already been raspy but now it was needle-point prickly. Swarm of bug stings.

“ _I’ll_ get rich and famous from whatever I concoct from that,” he ranted. “ _You’ll_ never be completely whole for the rest of your miserable life! _You_ won’t know the peace of death until _I_ decide when to put you down.”

Not-Gordon lowered his head. Benry could see his eye again, and it was a raging green _hellfire_ that sent a shock straight through him _._ He wanted nothing more than to stomp it out.

“We’ll see who’s the ‘salty’ one _then_.”

A couple of small candy-red orbs flew past Benry’s parted lips. 

“haha, ok. and then what?” he breathed. Was he in hate? Is this what it felt like? 

“You-” not-Gordon backed away again. He was making the same face real-Gordon made whenever he caught Benry licking a corpse. “ _Holy shit_ . Are you seriously _getting off from this_ , you sick fuck?”

Whoops. He dropped his face back to neutral. “what? no. _you’re_ the one talkin sick. cryin like a lil baby even though you keep racking up mad killstreaks on me.”

Not-Gordon pressed a hand back to his face and crossed his other arm to rest under his elbow. His eye squinted at Benry, hard, but he had no comeback to that flawless argument.

His lips moved silently for a good long while. Benry kept looking away from them, then back. Magnets. He pressed his teeth against the inside of his cheek and bit down gently. 

Finally, not-Gordon clicked his tongue. Benry almost visibly startled.

“Alright,” he said, raising his hands into a half-shrug. His shoulders were still way tense. “Let me out, then. I _swear_ I’ll be good if you do.”

“no. naw.” Benry fired back “out of order. maybe try listening to me _first._ ”

Not-Gordon sighed and shook his head. He lowered himself down to the floor and sat criss-cross applesauce. When he looked back up at Benry his face seemed almost. Tired. 

“ _Fine._ ”

Benry peered down his nose at him. What the hell? It'd been going so good. But now he looked like real-Gordon when he made that face. Tired of _him_. Blocked and reported. Fucked him up. Made his insides twist. 

“huh? what? can i see your-”

 _“Benrey,”_ he interrupted in a low, warning tone. Lip raised again. Dog toothed. “I _said_ I would be a _good boy._ Okay?” 

Benry gaped at him. “okay,” he managed. 

Mindwipe. Forgot what he was gonna say. Felt kinda uncomfortable to stand all of a sudden. He criss-crossed on the floor as well with his hands hanging over his lap. Not-Gordon stared him down. That was Fine and Normal. They were playing the chill game. Straight up vibing.

Not-Gordon seemed to agree. “...I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” he said to break the silence. Much too sweet. Fake. Sus. Benry didn’t care. He'd decided not-Gordon could lie all he wanted if he did it like _this._

He held up his hand. “Hi. I’m Doctor Gordon Freeman.”

Benry smacked his lips. “already said i know who you are, doctor gordog."

His good eye twitched and his smile grew both wider and more clenched.

“...Freeman. Is fine.”

Eh. Ok. Memeing aside, he got it. He'd seen this type of Touching TV Moment before. The human re-name saying to start being friends thing. He'd even do the dumb arm move custom as a show of good will. “Benry,” he said, sticking out his own hand and reaching to shake.

"What are you doing? Think your hand can fit through the fence?" Hadn't taken long for _that_ tone to come back. Guess Freeman was a bad liar too. Benry ignored him "Oh. Okay. No, don't stop on my account or anything. Go right ahead."

Benry flicked his gaze up to make eye contact right as he noclipped his hand through. See? Freeman was still the dumb one this way.

Freeman narrowed his eye. "So, is that part of your arm still permeable? Or did you solidify and have the current running through you right now to orchestrate the world's most deadly version of the handshake buzzer gag?"

Benry didn't know what half those words meant. He shrugged. "Fuck around and find out." He had a taunt locked and loaded at the slightest hint of hesitation, but Freeman balls to the wall went for it while maintaining an unblinking stare. Oh well. It was technically cheating anyway since he only had to not-blink half his eyes now. His grip was mad tight, too. Paging Dr. Crushing Machine much? Benry made his own hand as limp as possible.

They waved their joined arms up and down a few times before Freeman pulled away. He looked super serious now. "So, I have an important question for you." he said.

Benry withdrew his own arm and and flexed his fingers. Important? Was he gonna ask to be let out? Please please please let me out Benry? It was a little early to start that game, iho, but he was down if Freeman was. Beat making the moment any more soft. His eyes rounded in anticipation.

"Can you make any orbs that can get me high?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yarrrrrr It be high time to gift an eyepatch to this scallywag
> 
> and look. there is a perfectly rational reason I had to write it this way, alright? listen. listen. they were gonna keep playing whack a mole with each other forever unless I put Freeman in the dog cage. I gotta make them converse somehow, bro. you have to believe me. think about it. it was for YOUR benefit. right? you want the story to progress? yes? I NEEDED to do it this way. I needed to p
> 
> Freeman: 1.5 Benrey: 2.5


	5. Plastic Hate  美学のための日本語の単語

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fellas is it gay to play homosexual 4D chess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, dear readers. I’m so glad you’re happy I’m keeping true to Freeman’s character so far. I would like to take the time to remind you that this man is from the year 2007, a total edgelord, *incredibly* paranoid, and homophobic. I’ve also been informed that some language maybe be considered transmisogynistic since Freeman references the Rocky Horror Picture Show. Consider this an extra content warning. Note the new tags.
> 
> Also you can follow me on tumblr @ mimzywhimsy I reblog inspo and occasionally post extra content or WIP snippets

Benry could not believe how bullshit this game was becoming. The social link parts were whatever, but could he really not bully President Tanaka at all? Not even a little? Choosing the most kiss-ass option every time was boring. Sleaze and skeeze, the musical. Benry wanted to push him into the fountain so bad. He wanted to see how someone like him would react to getting his fancy suit all wet. Shock? Anger? Embarrassed like a lil bitch boy? 

Some of his business lessons were actually pretty dope, though. Humans get dumber the harder they believe conspiracy theories: confirmed.

And it’s not like he had anything else to do. The banter with Freeman eventually wound down because little baby needed his nap. It was whatever. Any human would be tired after that sort of tantrum.

He knew from experience that a sore loser _could_ be funny. Plenty of that over at Black Mesa. Often led to rule-breaking physical altercations. He'd gotten his shift partner (Jeff...erem? Yeah, that sounded right) written up several times because Benry didn't want to break up the old man fights. Didn't take much to have 'em have at each other neither. Once, Benry had sidled up to Dr. Coomer and told him Dr. Rosenberg was talkin' shit over at the bar about being smarter at grant money or whatever and, bam! Took five security guards to separate them. Benry would've helped, but he was too busy watching. It's how he met Tommy, actually- he'd been watching, too.

The corner of his mouth twitched. Soon.

So, yelling and being all mad about losing was awesome. Benry kinda wanted to compare and contrast Freeman and Gordon with that one anyway. He was betting on Freeman getting more violent. Gordon got mean, but he didn't really hit much. No art to it. People destroying stuff around them was kinda like a dance. But to curl up like a little child wah wah in the corner ignoring him to sleep was lame as hell. And he knew Freeman's line about Benry being too boring to talk to was a lie. It was _such_ a lie. And it was a lie about the wrong thing, because Freeman was supposed to be lying about being _nice._ Couldn't even keep track of his own schemes right.

A new dialogue screen popped up below Tanaka’s grey string bean-ass grease-looking animation. [Today’s lesson is called ‘The smaller the dog, the louder the bark’]

Yap, yap, yap.

Benry was still on the _job_. He couldn't just be giving out drugged Sweetvoice on the fly willy nilly. Not allowed. Not while Freeman was in jail. Out of jail? Maybe. If Freeman was really so smart he would've known to ask real nice to be let out, but he didn't. Just wanted to argue about drug law like Benry didn't know his own job? Gordog thinks he's a guard now? Huh? Impersonating someone who was impersonating an officer not so good a look. 

So, anyway. Benry's hands were sort of tied here. He'd expected Freeman to argue with him about that also, but he'd just went to the corner and lay on the floor to be quiet and boring. Guess they'd try it again after he woke up. Would he beg? Nah, he wouldn't. Not for a while. Not till he calmed down enough to be rational and know he'd has to feel all blue inside to be set free. Freeman could do that when he wanted, Benry bet. Calm like a bomb. Pack up for a bigger explosion than the firecracker sparks he was spitting. Tastier when he'd finally have to break down and do it.

Someone loudly cleared their throat above him. Benry glanced up from his PSP to see a super smug looking Freeman standing over him. 

Benry's face did not move. “yo,” he said. “just finishing up this level real quick.” He turned his attention back to the game. 

Freeman was talking more things. Something something fence something. But nope, Benry couldn't hear him. Benry was on his way to snagging a modeling gig for pervert cameras. Mr. Cool Epic Fence Jumper would have to wait. He tuned it all out. [You feel like President Tanaka is counting on you. You feel like you know him a little better now]. See? Nice. Benry was more confused than ever over why it was such a big deal for humans to talk to The Devil. Seemed all you had to do was listen and he’d get all melty. No gold violin contest needed. Hidden cheat code combination to win emotion high score.

He distantly heard the clunky noise of Freeman stomping away from him and smirked to himself. Not much fun, in doing that.

How would Freeman get his attention while still being good?

...

It was a little while later, after Benry finished the level, that he realized: he wouldn’t. Pasta la vista. 

This was not how probation worked. He knew that for a fact. Probation was all about being let out of prison so when detectives like Ice-T came asking questions he could threaten to put you back in prison for non cooperation. Was Freeman running away _again_ , for real? If he kept doing that Benry was going to have to play chase with him, for real. That’s just what he’d get _._ Thinking he could get out of a fight twice in a row like a tease. _Such_ a tease. _Better_ not be doing something dumb like dying. He got moves, but he hadn't grown his eye back yet. Humans needed both to be able to see bullets, Benry was pretty sure. Freeman hadn't gone far enough to die. Not yet. Not even close. 

\----

“I hope he doesn’t come after me, but, he definitely will.” Freeman stifled a yawn. He hadn’t slept a wink last night. How _could_ he have? But boy, did that argument he’d ended up having with Benrey over the relative legality of alien substances that just _happened_ to have opiate properties tire him out. If there’s one thing he’d learned in grad school, it was that there were only a certain number of times you can correct a stupid person on their own stupidity before the only thing left to do is turn your back on ‘em and pretend to go to sleep.

“It’s like that time when I was a kid and our dog dug a hole out from under the fence when I was at school. Mom had been _real_ pissed when I got home since she had to spend so long going out driving looking for him. And then... _something_ happened, and she had to put the car in the shop on top of it all. _Boy,_ did she yell at me for that. It wasn’t even my fault! I was teaching him how to dig for mines, how was I supposed to- anyway. I never did find out what happened to Goldie…” 

For some inexplicable reason, there had been a crowbar waiting for him in the middle of the hallway. Maybe Benrey dropped it? Whatever. Objective number one was to find a medkit so his whole face didn’t end up infected and rotted off.

“But yeah, I _think_ I’m like a pet to him...I dunno. I guess it’s possible that he just didn’t fully grasp the implication of putting me in a dog pen. At least I’d _like_ to believe that. It would be more _pleasant_ for me if I did. But, unfortunately, I’m the type of guy who just _has_ to face the truth. _It’s not like anyone else ever does_ ” He bashed a headcrab that had dropped from the ceiling. Like, imagine if he was in denial about those things, and decided to believe that when they jumped up to attack his face, they were just them trying to give him a hug. The slime monsters weren’t trying to eat him! Those were tentacle kisses! The military wasn’t trying to kill him! Those were non-lethal _friendship_ bullets! Benrey wasn’t trying to break him into a shell of himself until he was only useful for sexual servitude! He _really_ just wanted to talk.

“No, it’s best to tackle this pervert head on. _I mean_ \- guh, bad wording. _I_ know what I mean. There’s no getting around it. He was licking his lips at me and I _swear_ he kept getting harder the more I yelled. Those are universal signals that he wants to make me his girlfriend. And since he’s an alien with no regard for human social norms, who _knows_ how far he’ll go. He already _maimed_ me.” Speaking of which- “please don’t be empty... _fuck.”_ He had no idea how so many medkits could be missing or used up, considering that most of the work personnel he’d seen so far had been fully dead. There’s _better_ be a useful one nearby. His eye socket was throbbing something _fierce._

Not that he was inclined to dole out criticism on the matter, but it has been a really dumb part to maim. Sure, his aim was going to be shit for a while until he adjusted, but wouldn’t it make more sense to break his legs so he had to crawl around on the floor? Or take both his thumbs? _Both_ his eyes, even. This was a half-ass handicap attempt at best. He just hoped it wasn’t one of those things where every time Benrey decided to arbitrarily punish him he took away another body part. 

“I _swear_ I was expecting him to whistle for a big guy in a gimp suit to come through the door the _entire time._ I mean, I _guess_ it’s better that he was undressing me with his eyes instead of like, actually doing it. But that is a _very cold comfort._ ” Freeman had been preparing himself for it, too. If Benrey so much as started to say ‘you got a purdy mouth’ he was going to run right into that fence. “Getting molested is the _last_ thing I need right now. The fact that he looks like a _guard_ is just icing on the cake. _Not_ that looking like a scientist or administrator or whatever would make it more pleasant.” A male scientist or administrator, anyway. He’d be lying if he hasn’t had a fantasy or two about Debra in Biology doing something along these lines. She was a spicy one. Always wore the sharpest heels and had an extra can of mace nearby. “But at least there’d be a little more _familiarity_ to it. Those guys already violated my freedoms, my privacy, my hard work, my opinions, the way I have to act ...what’s one more piece of myself on top of it all, really. Something like that might’ve happened eventually, for all I know. I’ve heard the initiation rumors- _yes.”_ he hissed. _Score._ “Okay, we got the gauze and disinfectant- hey! Some miscreant pinched the morphine! Unbelievable! We have _got_ to start doing more thorough background checks before hiring.”

Now dejected, he started to unravel the gauze and sighed. “But yeah, there’s really no getting around it. He looks like a man, and he _probably_ has some sort of penis? _No thank you._ I have no idea what gay alien culture is like, but if humanity’s speculation is at all on point, Benrey’s about to pop out from behind that corner to sing a musical number while wearing nothing but a corset, lipstick, stockings and panties.” Wouldn’t _that_ be a sight. Freeman didn’t even want to picture it. “ _Or,_ he’ll try to dress _me_ in the stockings and panties! Okay, carefully…” He lifted his glasses and tilted his head back, dabbing around the wound gingerly.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m fully aware that I can pull it off. But there’s a reason I decided to pursue a _theoretical_ study. Not _everything_ that’s possible needs to be put into practice! I don’t really think I’m the lipstick type! It’ll clash with the beard!” He dribbled disinfectant into the socket, speech accelerating to a rapid pace. “I wasn’t dropped into this fantastical situation to play transvestite dress-up barbie no matter _how_ good my legs would look in thigh highs! Rrrraaahhh!!” He bent over and clutched at his head, teeth grit, as the sting fully kicked in. God, it was _so much worse_ when coming from inside him. 

He allowed himself a handful of seconds to pant in pain before straightening up again. “My only hope is that I can successfully play along _just_ enough to keep him from going on the offensive until I figure out how to get away or destroy him. I think that’s feasible. I’ve been on the other side of this game with various lady personnel over the years to get the mechanics. See, the trick is,” he packed sterilized gauze into the socket “to be just enough of a flirt to make him _think_ that he already has a chance, but shy enough for him to understand that if he gets too aggressive he’ll scare me off. And then if he _does_ get handsy...” He taped a bandage over to cover it, then began winding more gauze around his head. “ ...damn it, I really need to find a new bug taser! Okay, think. If he grabs my ass, what can I do, what can I do…” 

He rattled the possibility around in his head for a moment as he surveyed the rest of the room. There was a loaded gun on one of the tables, so he could only assume he was about to meet something that needed to be shot. He’ll take that, thank you.

“Yeah, I really can’t let it get to that point. This’ll have to be a conservative gameplay. Now, I know that honey trapping isn’t considered the most _honorable_ method of fighting, but what am I supposed to do? I mean I _guess_ I could commit ritual suicide, but I highly doubt a samurai ever had to deal with this type of situation.” He peeked up the hallway ahead. “I spy with my little eye...a soldier! Yah!” Now he also had an automatic, yay.

“In fact, I would argue that my actions technically still fall within the Bushido paradigm. What were those principles again? Let’s see, we have Righteousness, which is striving to do the right thing” he hoisted the body up with a grunt and dragged it to the ledge of the walkway. Always helped to present an alternative moving target. 

“...I would say keeping myself alive is the right thing to do. Courage.. _.yeah_ , it’s courageous! I’d like to see any of these U.S. Marines willing to play a battle of wits with someone who has a mouth full of shark teeth itching to slob all over their knobs!” He let the body slide over the edge, crouched, and popped back up at the first sign of gunfire. “ _That makes me braver than you!”_ he shouted at the squadron down below as he lit them up with a good old spray and pray. “No, that’s not fair. I’m sorry. I _know_ you don’t have any wits to begin with. It’s too high a bar to set. What else...Compassion. Well, I’m sure some would argue that leading someone on is hardly compassionate...but, really, it’s not so much leading him on, because he could do whatever he wants to me! _I_ can’t stop it. _At least not while I’m still in agony from this eye wound._ ” He nearly stepped on a chirp maggot sleeping in his blind spot. _Case in fucking point._

 _“_ See, what I’m really doing” he whispered, ganking it before it could fully wake up, “ is offering him the easy option. You know, so he can feel better about himself? _Nobody_ wants to be the bad guy in this type of situation. Unless...that’s his thing...no, nope. Getting serious for a moment now. I can’t believe that. The evidence so far would suggest otherwise. This is someone who wants to play a _game._ Like that stupid fucking…” he kicked open a crate, anger suddenly raised several notches, “ PSP he was so focused on. I’m just _playing_ with him. Is there anything more compassionate than that? I bet I’m making his decade right now. Who _knows_ how many people like me he’s met over the centuries. Us hero protagonists are a dying breed, especially nowadays. 

“And that brings us to Respect.” He turned to address a trio of headcrabs crawling dangerously close to him.” And I know you’re thinking, haha! I’ve got you there, Freeman! But, as usual, you’re wrong.” He shot one “See, a samurai was supposed to be respectful as a _default_ , but in practice that all went out the window as soon as someone disrespected him first.” And the next one. “Hell, you could kill someone passing you by on the road if they so much as looked at you the wrong way!” And the last “Now _that’s_ how you approach this ideal. You give respect, if you get respect. And I’m feeling pretty _fucking_ disrespected!”

"And then, truthfulness...we'll skip that for now. Um. Loyalty..." Freeman trailed off and mentally ran through the rest of the principles: Truthfulness...Honor...Loyalty...Self Control? He stopped in his tracks. “Ok, you know what? The whole premise behind the principles of Bushido were complete bullshit anyway! It was all a ploy by Nitobe Inazō to make his country’s culture look better, because Japan had lagged so far behind the rest of the world they were an _embarrassment_ . The truth is, America _strolled_ on over, slapped Japan right on the ass, and they couldn’t do _shit!_ I didn’t see the whole country commit seppuku _then._ So why should I- if I can’t- but he could-” He let out a wail. _“I really want morphine,”_ he dry sobbed, falling to his knees beside the corpse of a scientist. “Do you have any, sir…?” he riffled through his lab coat. “No…” he sniffed. Something was stinging his remaining eye something awful. He scrunched it closed. This _sucked. So bad._ He gulped in a mouthful of air. He needed to stand up. Stand the fuck up. If he didn’t do that _right now_ , he was gonna keel over and lay down forever.

He supported himself against the wall and used it to drag himself up again. Wiped at his eye with the palm of his hand and tried to regain his breath. With just the corpses to keep him company, the hallway was completely silent. It pressed at him from all sides. He wet his lips, steeled himself, and began to move forward once more. 

“Look...we’ve all had our gay moments. I’ve lived in Austria. If there’s one thing the Germanic people are known for, it’s sexual degeneracy.” Well- that, and one other major thing. “But yeah, there’s _definitely_ a line.” Like, if it’s 2 am in the club and Johan accidentally spills the rest of the coke on his dick when they're huddled in the stall together, what is he _supposed_ to do? It’s really just a matter of efficiency at that point. But the difference between _that_ , and suggestively acting like another man’s _dog_ , is a pretty fucking major one! “This is _deep_ into fa- ah ah ah! I don’t think so!” he shot off the head of a zombie lurking behind a half open door. “Sneaky little fucker. What was I saying? Right. Gay territory. Man, I’m not even a dog _person_ . I don’t respect any being who willingly accepts someone else as its master.” They can be _useful_ , if _he’s_ the master, but respect is a whole other ball game. It’s really just a matter of intrinsic supremacy.

“Y’know, it’s really too bad that Benrey’s not a _cat_ person. That’s something I can work with! All they do is sit pretty, do awesome stunts, snort catnip, and boss everyone around. I’m _practically_ a cat already. Mew. Meeeewwww. Prrreow! RrrowwwaaaAAAAAAAAAAUUUGHHH!!!! FUCK!” 

Benrey had phased through the wall right in front of him like the ghost of Christmas future. He wore his usual stone face expression, but there was an amused gleam in his eyes.

“you meowing, bro?”

“No.” Freeman replied too quickly. “That was a uh,” he cleared his throat in an incredibly manly manner. “A cough.”

Benrey blinked at him super slow. “what the fuck? what’s wrong with you?”

“It’s human allergies. I wouldn’t expect _you_ to understand,” Freeman snapped.

That earned a smirk. “uh huh. why’re your cheeks getting so red, then? you lying? lil uh, liar boy?”

Freeman opened his mouth to tear him a new one before remembering himself. _Right._ He was supposed to be a good dog now. His teeth clacked together. “ _No_ , I’m just so... _happy to see you_ , Benrey.” 

“...okay? well.” It was Benrey’s turn to clear his throat. “you’re doing catboy degeneracy while on probation without a passport. i’ll have to follow you.”

“Oh, _I’m_ the degen- I mean. _Yeah._ Yes. Following me. I figured. Listen, can you phase other people through walls too? I’ll be honest, I do _not_ feel motivated to do this all over again.”

“huh? i dunno what you’re talking about,” Benrey replied, which he immediately followed by phasing through a door. 

Oh, a _comedian!_ Freeman hated comedians. All they did was bitch about things non stop to a captive audience. He tapped on the glass of the door with the end of his crowbar.

“Yeah, _hilarious._ Look, I’m being very serious. If you want me to-”

The door slid open to reveal Benrey in the doorway. “right this way,” he said like an unmannerly tour guide. He did not move out of the way when Freeman stepped forward, however.

“I’m going?” said Freeman, his ire already growing. 

Benrey shook his head with a frown. “sorry. can’t let you through without a passport.”

He furrowed his brows. What was he _doing?_

 _Oh._ Okay. Freeman knew what was going on. He himself has been guilty of the block-the-only-exit flirting strategy once or twice. Sort of a risky play, normally, if the girl didn’t feel like being polite. But in this case, he sort of had to? So let’s see...actually, had that _ever_ worked for him? He’s not sure he could reverse engineer this from experience alone. Well- okay. He’s got this. He’ll just have to act how he’d _want_ the girl to act in this scenario. 

“Haha, stop~” he said, batting his eyelashes and playfully swatting Benrey on the shoulder. “You’re such a jerk~”

A little part of him died on the inside just then. He shut his eye and winced as a brief and powerful wave of shame washed over him. That did not feel worth it, _at all._

He raised his eyelid a sliver to assess the damage. Benrey, for his part, looked the most out of it Freeman had ever seen him, plasma electroshock incident included. He looked like he’d just been asked to solve the Standard Model Lagrangian or something. Freeman waved a hand in front of his face. Was he broken?

Ha! Looks like _no one_ could resist his charms. This was going to be easier than he thought.

“O-kay...just gonna,” he angled himself to squeeze past Benrey, who gave no resistance, “go on past now- hey! I’ve been here before too!” Three scientists- an Einstein, a dark haired younger looking guy, and the black autist who had ended up letting Freeman out of the labs during his first run through- stood huddled in the small room together.

Benrey snapped out of whatever fugue he’d been in and whirled around toward them. “hey, you’re not supposed to be in-”

“Yeah! That’s the saw cutter dissection device right in the next room!” Freeman bulldozed right over him. “But how did-” he pointed at the Einstein accusingly, “didn’t you _die?”_

“that was his uh, clone.” Benrey piped up.

Freeman spun around back to Benrey. “His _WHAT?_ ” 

The guard looked away disinterestedly without elaborating. Freeman rolled his eye and turned back toward the Einstein. “You have _clones?_ ” He’d made fun of them for being such lookalikes before, but Jesus! That changes everything! 

“Why, just look at those peculiar markings…” the dead-eyed scientist replied, staring off past Freeman’s shoulder.

“You mean the guard? Yeah, I don’t really get that whole shadow thing either. Does Black Mesa really have a cloning facility…?”

He supposed it made sense from an economical standpoint to simply clone the research assistant grunts instead going through the tedious process of constant hiring. _Especially_ given the lack of any basic safety procedure at this company. Still, it didn’t explain why the clones were old men. It didn’t really make sense logistically if they were just doing it to expand the labor pool. And if they were meant for the actual _intellectual_ part of doing science, then that just opened up a whole other can of worms. Any peer reviewed work they might’ve published is certainly down the toilet, for one thing. But, it would also explain how everyone he’s ever worked with was a complete dunce compared to him. He couldn’t imagine clones have the same quality of enrichment while their brains were developing that normal people did. Hell, depending on how old they really were, they probably had the mental level of a five year old. That _really_ put things into perspective for him.

The clone did not reply. “I guess it’s top secret, huh.” Or he just didn’t know. Giving clones the secrets of their own production seemed awfully dangerous. He gestured toward the dark haired scientist. “I’ve seen other guys that look like _him,_ too. Are _these_ clones?” He asked Benrey.

Benrey smacked his lips. “why’re you asking so many questions? to steal?”

That’s fair. He _might_ have been thinking about stealing the clone formulas. But could you _blame_ him? This opened up an _entire_ new avenue of possibilities. Like, when he had his own minions one day, it _did_ make sense to churn em out like a factory product! Hell, he could even clone himself, technically. He’d always wanted to 1v1- _wait. Wait just a god danged minute._ He felt his stomach drop. Could he _himself_ be a- _no_ , no, that didn’t make sense. Plus, he _promised_ himself he wouldn’t have this particular type of existential crisis again after the last time. 

One thing was for sure. If he _ever_ ran into a clone of himself, Freeman was going to put him down _immediately._ Who the original was didn’t really matter if he was the only one left. 

“Okay, so I guess we’ll just…” he started to grumble, gesturing vaguely at the saw cutter room. “Do this stupid fucking thing aga- _what are you doing?”_

Benrey had sidled across the floor until he could make direct eye contact with Freeman, taken out his gun, and pointed it at the black scientist’s head. As if to answer Freeman’s question, he went ahead and shot him. 

“ _Why-”_

He shot the dark haired scientist, too, then swung around on the Einstein clone. 

Sometimes, the brain processes stuff so quickly in dangerous scenarios that it’ll direct the body to move before the conscious has time to catch up. It’s called ‘instinct’, and Freeman had it in spades. He _assumed_ that was why he unthinkingly raised his own gun up and killed the clone before Benrey had the chance. 

They stared at one another.

“wow, you’re killing people? that’s fucked up.”

“Clones aren’t people,” Freeman said dismissively. He leaned forward until he and Benrey were at eye level with one another. “And if you think mowing down innocent civilians in front of me is some sort of mindfuck, guess again. _I don’t care._ ”

He holstered his weapon, hoping Benrey didn’t break eye contact to see how bad his hand was shaking. “Let’s go,” he said roughly, turning away toward the saw room. He hoped to _god_ that was enough to dissuade Benrey from doing that again. Sure, clones might not be _people_ -people, but this was a slippery slope that he wanted off of. Killing soldiers and _threatening_ to kill scientists was one thing, _actually_ killing defenseless old men was another.

When he turned back toward Benrey after they cleared the room, he was staring at Freeman with a dazed expression. 

“stone-cold psycho boy,” he said, unprompted. 

“Um..yes!” Freeman gestured down at his blood splattered suit. “Correct!”

A slow, curling grin traveled up Benrey’s face, going way farther than humanly possible. “Nice,” he said appreciatively. 

For _fucks_ sake. He was gonna start a massacre at this rate. Who _knows_ what depraved murdergames Benrey would want to start with him.The walls would run red with the blood of the innocent. It couldn’t be helped. Freeman would have to use a little...sweet persuasion.

He leaned his elbow against the wall and angled himself toward Benrey, flashing him his most roguish grin. “Sure is. I’m kinda a….” he slowly reached over to wipe a splatter of blood off Benrey’s cheek with his thumb.It turned into more of a smear because his hev suit glove already had blood on it. Benrey tracked his movements but was otherwise still

“... professional when it comes to killing, if you haven’t noticed.” He tilted his head and subtly flexed his bicep. “You should leave the taking of human lives to _me ,_ ” he finished with a wink.

Benrey stared into space, assumedly mulling it over. 

Freeman felt sweat start to bead at the back of his neck.

Benrey flicked his eyes back to meet his, half lidded.

“sure thing, sweet cheeks,” He deadpanned.

Any premature celebration or reflexive disgust response ended before it began as a grenade clattered at their feet. 

Freeman dived sideways behind a conveniently placed wall inlet. A hail of bullets coming from his left followed shortly after the explosion. 

“ _Fuck!_ I knew the lack of eye was gonna be the death of me eventually!” He did a quick inventory as he loaded up a mag and was dismayed to find himself running low on bullets. 

“Benrey!” he called, after taking a crack shot at a soldier dumb enough to peek his head out. He missed. It seemed depth perception was a lot more important from hitting targets that _weren’t_ right in front of his face.

Benrey had remained in the hallway and was sitting perched on a crate, unbothered by the firefight surrounding him. “oh no,” he droned. “too bad i can’t do nuttin’.”

Right. _Human lives._ Damn it, he forgot that teaming up with a demon meant he needed to be super specific! They always twist human wishes around for their own amusement!

“Oh, you are _definitely_ sleeping on the couch tonight!” he yelled, fully aggravated. 

He army crawled into the adjacent room, praying for a random box of ammo that seemed to appear whenever he needed it. No dice.

“Shitshitshit, they’re right on my ass,” Freeman hissed, looking around hysterically. His eye landed on a vent. 

“Okay, fuck this. Queerboy in blue sure as shit ain’t helping out. I’m outta here,” he announced as he shattered the grating and clamored into it. “Hopefully the army hasn’t caught onto the fact that I’m traveling by vent yet, despite it being a rather obvious option at this point.” 

He was really bad at the whole being a dog thing, apparently. But that was more Benrey’s fault than his! You can’t change someone’s _nature_! 

“This reminds me of one of my favorite stories. Snake and the scorpion,” Freeman grunted, as he continued to inch forward in the cramped space. “Scorpion barges in on a snake minding his own business and is all, _take me across the river, please!_ But the _snake_ , he’s no dope. He knows the scorpion’s full of shit. In _fact_ , he heard just last week, old scorpy’d merced a frog in the back for no good reason! The poor bastard was just a toy for the arachnid’s sick amusement! So the _snake_ says- oof, hold on.” he smashed the fan in his way and slid through the new opening. “He says, _Oh, I’d just love to, Mr. Scorpion, but it’s super cold out, and I’m a reptile! Can you build me a fire so I can warm myself up first, you creepy little shit?_ And _then-”_

Freeman fell through the ceiling.

“Ow,” he coughed, bits of plaster raining down on his head. “Guess they used cheap material for all their buildings,” he wheezed, fumbling around for his glasses. He was in a room with a lot of glowy blue light, he could tell that much. Tube shaped. Batteries? 

“You better not be cracked,” he growled at his glasses once he found them. A quick look through told him they weren’t. “Good.”

“I never seem to fall into anything soft, ever notice that?” he complained as he cleared the dust off them the best he could and put them back on. “Just once, I’d like to fall into a room full of...titties...”

He was in a room with a bunch of tubes, alright. Large, man sized tubes filled with bubbling blue liquid. And most, they were just that. But the one directly in front of him held something -some _one-_ that caused his jaw to hit the floor.

_“KLEINER?!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, dear. Is that the beginning of an actual PLOT you’re seeing?
> 
> Benrey was playing Persona 3, if you were curious
> 
> Don’t come after me about the catboy bit, [Ross Scott already did it first ten years ago ](https://youtu.be/_lrdRKCCYtk?t=64)


	6. ASMR threatening your captor~| rambling | personal attention | explosion sounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benry realizes he made a big mistake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m more than whelmed with the positive reaction this work continues to receive. Overwhelmed, one could say. It’s crazy how this is shaping up into an actual story despite it starting as a “haha what if funnee unhinged screaming man fought eldritch god internet troll” type of deal- but I never would’ve bothered without your support! I’m not sure if this is going to go quite how you expect, dear reader, but I hope you trust me 8^3

“Holy _shit_ , what is this place? It looks like Kleiner’s being used as an experimental subject!” Which is _super ironic,_ considering it’s Kleiner. Freeman’s lost track of the number of human volunteers who never exited Kleiner’s lab. “Did we do this? Or did the aliens-? I can’t even tell anymore.” He circled the tube curiously. Well, he was unconscious. So he _probably_ wasn’t suffering right now. Probably. But nothing explained _why-_

“Hey, wait a second...is this a _clone?_ Was Kleiner _cloning himself?_ Now that I think about it, I’ve been seeing some guys around that look like _him_ , too! Yeah! _How_ did we master the art of cloning our top scientists without anybody telling me? Does this institute have _any idea_ how much progress we’d make if there were more than one of me running around? Naw, maybe that isn’t such a good idea. I’m already stuck with all the crappy work as the new guy, I don’t even want to imagine what type of things they’d make my clones do.” And he knew he _just_ said he’d kill a clone of himself on sight, but, it’s the principle of the matter, you know? _They_ can’t kill him. “Only _I_ can kill me. I would totally give my clone the honorable death he deserves. _Unless_ he gets lippy. Then all bets are off.”

But seriously, _what_ was Kleiner thinking? It’s like he hasn’t seen a single piece of media spelling out in detail why making copies of yourself is a _bad idea._ Freeman shook his head in disappointment and wandered over to a panel of buttons. “I thought he was smarter than this. _Unless_ …” none of the buttons had any labels. Damn. One of them was way bigger and red, though. It was speaking to him. “...he installed some sort of neural implant that would make their heads explode at the first sign of insurrection. I bet that’s it. It _would_ be just like him. Well that’s cool! I guess. Not sure why he’s fully clothed in a tube of liquid, but then maybe I’m making too many assumptions here. It _could_ just be his outer skin made to _look_ like his clothes.”

He pushed the big red button. The tube immediately shattered. 

_“AAuh!”_ Freeman screamed. “ _Why would we design it this way?_ There’s goo and shards of glass everywhere!” 

The clone spilled out on a wave of goo onto the floor. Freeman aimed his gun at it. “Hello?” he called. “Are you alive? Damn, maybe there’s another step needed to activate him that I missed.” He turned his head as far as he dared without letting the body leave his sight. “ Uhh...I don’t _see_ any defibrillation paddles lying around…” Just tubes, cabinets, and more tubes.

A choking noise drew his attention back to the body. The Kleiner clone had raised itself up to its hands and knees and was coughing up goo onto the floor. 

“Oh, hey! Welcome to the land of living!” 

The clone groaned and shook his head like a wet dog. 

“I’m Dr. Freeman, your new master. Can you hear me ok? Perceptual processing kick in yet? Ugh, I hope this isn’t one of those situations where they start out fresh, like an infant. That’d basically be useless to me.” If he had more time and wasn’t currently fighting for his life in a crisis, it’d make a pretty sick experiment, though.

The Kleiner clone raised its head to look at Freeman. His skin was deathly pale and the eyes behind his glasses were black, black black, like two sunken endless pits.

Freeman screamed.

The clone shrieked back, revealing a mouth filled with rows of needle-like teeth. It scuttled on all fours toward Freeman like a deranged lizard. 

_"What were we doing down here?”_ Freeman shrieked as he shot at it. _“Why are we trying to play God? We are Bad. People!”_

The thing was quick. None of the bullets seemed to hit him _damn his stupid fucking missing eye,_ but the oncoming fire at least made it change directions. It crawled behind a row of tubes with a hiss.

" _Where you going? We were just starting to get to know each other!”_ Freeman shouted after it, shattering the tubes into a rain of glass. So he could hit _big_ far away targets now. That was good! As long as the aliens and soldiers left him alone long enough to practice, he’d be back in shape in no time. 

“Hey! Come back! We need to stick together!” He called again, still firing at it. “There’s a freak monster clone of my mentor on the loose, it’s dangerous!” 

The thing shimmied up a cabinet which, when shot at, fell onto a tube to start a domino effect. The noise the tubes were making as they broke was near-unbearable. Ok, that was _not_ really his fault.

“Great,” Freeman muttered, backing into a corner. “There’s glass _everywhere_ now! It’s gonna get in my other eye!” There was a flurry of movement from above. Freeman lit his flashlight and pointed it at its general direction. “No, no, you’re going the wrong way!” He shouted over his gunfire. “ _Get back to the floor! Free diving lesson! Jump!”_

Damn it, time to reload. “Ok, time out,” Freeman called. 

He did a double take when the thing actually stopped. It was hanging from a swinging ceiling light, still dripping and glaring hard. 

“...can you understand me?” He asked in disbelief.

The thing hissed and made a garbled noise. Stopped itself, looking almost confused.Opened its mouth again. “Gohhhhdrrrrrn” it said. 

“Um,” said Freeman, who had since reloaded and was pointing his gun at it warily. Was it trying to speak? 

The next thing he knew, there was a ball of fire coming right at his face. He screamed and ducked away.

_“Nevermind! I guess I’m adding freak clones of my mentor to my list of things I shouldn’t try to talk to before killing!”_

It veered left out of his line of vision and disappeared. “Shit.” He turned as far as he could go in his corner, but couldn’t catch sight of it.

“Where did you-” 

There was a thumping noise and a ceiling tile fell a few yards from Freeman’s feet. Then another one, even closer. 

“Oh no, no, no it’s in the _ceiling!_ ” He pointed his automatic straight up and prayed to God he’d hit it at random as he pulled the trigger. 

\---

The army men eventually destroyed his crate seat, so they had to go. That just left Freeman. He’d been quiet for too long. Sleeping? Benry strolled to the last spot he’d seen the man go. No body, no blood. Missing. He cocked his head. 

There was a lot of screaming and gunfire sounds coming from down the hall. Aha. _There_ he was. Mystery solved.

Where were they, anyway? he wondered as he drew toward the noise. Benry wanted to show him his first surprise already. Maybe then he’d stop doing...whatever the fuck it was that he had started doing. Being sus-nice was one thing, but Freeman was acting _way_ crazy and weird. Unironically cringe.

Clearly, Benry had been right, as he always is. Things were way wrong here, so this Gordon Freeman was acting wrong. Which was great when he was fun, but fail mode? Not so much.

How lucky for him good friend Benry had fixed it for him. Hadn’t been _too_ hard to find the files he’d been looking for when digging around in the code. Pre-cascade save point. Their original bodies were gone, but there were about a bajillion copies of new ones everywhere. Not so hard to stick their minds into someone similar. All better. Thank you very much, Benry! Oh, no problem at all, Benry. 

He swiped his passport against the door key and it slid open. Something crawled through the upper right corner and scuttled against the wall down the hallway. Benry squinted after it. Was that…? 

A strangled noise drew his attention back to the room. Freeman was standing in the middle of a completely destroyed tube room, splattered in goo. Gun still smoking. Wild look was back in his eye. _“You.”_ he growled.

Benry walked in to assess the damage. “oh, man. who did this?”

“You did that on _purpose._ ” Freeman stomped up to him. 

Benry ignored the baseless accusation and stared up at him boredly. “was it you?”

“Who gives a fuck? We have to get out of here!” He stepped around Benry toward the door. “Or, you can kill it, I guess-” 

Benry quickly moved to block him from the exit. 

“why’re you trying to leave so fast?" he demanded. "fleeing? from the scene of the crime?” Their chests were almost touching. _So_ gay. Freeman’s face was turning red and he was wearing a delightfully angry expression.

“ _You-”_ he started. But then. His face changed. Stare down hot to cold. Fake smile. Here we go again. Benry was liking the look of it less and less. Wasn’t as much fun as he thought it would be. 

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Why don’t we save the punishment for later, officer?” He got all cheesy, toying with one of Benry’s vest straps. Bleugh.

Benry reached up and pinched Freeman’s nose shut. 

“What’re you _doing?_ ” Freeman exclaimed in a nasally tone, all fakeness instantly gone. He clawed at Benry’s hand.

“huh huh. funny voice.” Benry said, not moving an inch. Freeman was using both hands to push at Benry’s arm now, trying and failing to twist out of his grasp. 

“Cut it out!” Even his rough yelling voice was squeakier now. This was great. He started to hit the side of Benry’s helmet. 

“can you not hit me, please?” 

_“Let go of me!”_

“let go of me please and thank you? please?” Freeman jabbed a thumb in his eye. “OW!” He let go out of shock. Really? Blinding innocent Benry?

Freeman rubbed at the new reddening mark on his nose, panting heavily. He was doing the vibrating in place thing again.He pulled out his crow bar and, with a parting glare, turned his back on Benry and beat it into the closest piece of equipment while making funny noises. 

Benry watched him go at it with interest, liking the tendons sticking out of his neck and the force he was using. He really went all out every time, huh. The fingers that had been holding Freeman’s nose twitched at his sides.

He meandered closer to examine Freeman’s work, stopping just behind him

“so all it took was a lil pinch?” he started. Freeman froze, Hand gripping the crowbar still raised above his head. “lil squeeze for baby boy Freeman to tantrum? can’t be good for too long?” 

The crowbar dropped to Freeman’s feet and bounced off the tile. He remained still otherwise.

“kinda pathetic.”

Freeman turned and grabbed at Benry’s vest and uniform shirt with both hands, using the grip to slam Benry into the nearest wall. Benry let him. He stared back with lidded eyes at Freeman’s twisting face, trying and failing to hide a grin. Yeah. This way was definitely better. They were like, kissing distance now. His toes curled in his boots.

 _“You’re doing it wrong!”_ Freeman snarled, half sing-song. Rabid. Spittle flew from his mouth to Benry's cheek. _“_ So _impatient!"_ He punctuated by slamming Benry back again. His helmet hit the wall behind him with a thunk. A shudder traveled up his spine.

"It's _way_ too early to call my bluff, you... _desperate_ little fa _-”_

Benry sang orange-to-pink directly into his open mouth. Watercolor drool pooling out the corners of his own maw and dripped off the tip of his rapidly unfurling tongue. Long enough now. It'd be so _easy_ to- nah. Nevermind. Be a nice boy, Benry.

Freeman dropped him and backed away. “What did you…” he said all uneasylike. Scared, almost. He touched his own lip, staring into Benry's eyes warily. Pupil shrunk to pinprick. “I feel...different.”

“i gave you the drugs.”

Freeman started, jaw dropped. “Oh my god,” he gasped. “You _roofied_ me?”

“what? no.” Benry didn’t see how a roof had anything to do with this. It just...didn't hurt to reinforcer Freeman sexy moments. Humans were _all_ about serotonic this, doe pepmeme that. “drugs you were being all mean about before. when you were shouting and acting stupid in jail.”

“Aaah... _those_ drugs,” Freeman nodded, eye now completely clouded. A dopey smile crawled up his face. Made him look dumber. Dumb enough for a kissarino, even. “Yeaahhahaha, I’m _definitely_ feeling it.”

He stumbled over. So simple now. Benry should’ve tried this from the beginning.

“Thanks, Benrey.” He slung an arm around Benry’s shoulder and steered them toward the door. Yeah. See? More touching already. Warm.

“Y’know, I was wrong about you,” he slurred. “You’re a good guy! This stuff is _great_. _You’re_ great. But like. Isn’t thisa...reward for being bad? Are you-”

He startled at a Coomer clone that was waiting for them just outside in the hallway. “Aay!” Freeman greeted him. “You’re a good clone! That’s great. I don’t have to kill you.” He frowned. “You’ll die anyway, though. Just like all the others. Issa shame, really.”

“Good morning, Gordon.” said the clone. 

“Is it morning? Ah, whatever. Time works so _different_ here.” He swung his face back to Benry. He had freckles on his cheekbones. “Are you fucking with the time flow, you little rascal?” He asked playfully, giving Benry’s shoulder a rough squeeze.

“wuh?” said Benry, mind blanking.

“I just want to get out of here alive,” said the clone. 

“Don’t we all,” Freeman sighed. “Alright...I _guess_ you can tag along with us until you die. We’re just uh…getting out of here?” Another squeeze. “Right, Benrey?”

Benry shook his head. “still gotta find him.”

Freeman let go and looked at him from his good side, eye narrowed. “Who?”

“Hello,” said the clone.

“Yeah, hi.” Freeman waved the clone away, impatience creeping back into his voice. “ _Who?”_

There was a loud grumble from behind them. They both turned to see a Xen grunt soldier barreling toward them. 

“Aw man,” Freeman complained, loading up his 12-gauge. “You mean _him?_ ” 

“...no.” Benry said, annoyed. Now his shoulder was cold. Freeman was too busy firing to reply. 

“Ah, it’s good to see you.” said the clone to the grunt’s corpse. 

“It’s really not,” said Freeman, reloading. “Damn. Seven shots to down one? This gun _sucks_ all of a sudden.” 

Another one teleported over the body of the first. Freeman groaned. “These guys are really messing with the vibe.” He aimed off center. The grunt fired his insects at them. “HAH! I can’t even feel that right now, moron!” he shouted at it as it charged. “Bangity bang bang bang. You’re dead! Thanks for shopping with us!” 

“Hello.” said the clone. 

Freeman ignored him this time. “Benrey, can you talk to someone in charge,” he whined, voice still slow. Little puppy. “There’s too much going on right now. They need to stop some of it. Make them stop it.” 

Benry’s eyes lit up. Begging time? He opened his mouth.

The clone appeared at Freeman’s elbow and jostled him. “Excuse me, Gordon.” he said.

“ _Jesus_ , don’t do that!” Freeman said, sounding even more irritated. “I’m trying to bargain with my captor here. What is it?”

The clone stared at him in silence for a long moment. Hm. Sus. Benry rested his hand on his pistol.

“Hello.” said the clone.

Freeman groaned. “Okay you know what? Stay here. You can stay here to die, then. I’m tired of this already and I am drugged up to the _gills._ ”

“You lead the way!” said the clone. 

Freeman turned on him. “No!” he shouted. “I _just_ said no! Lemme make it simple. You _stay._ I _go_.”

“No!” the clone burst out, as if in pain.

There was chittering sound from above as they continued to argue. Benry looked up to see Bubby hanging from the ceiling. Oh man, was he playing a prank? It looked like it was gonna be epic. Benry smiled and put a finger to his lips conspiratorially.

Bubby nodded back and dropped down onto Freeman’s head. 

Freeman screamed and fired his gun wildly, hitting both Benry and the clone. The clone fell to the ground, dead. Freeman stumbled until his body hit a wall, at which point he started slamming the Bubby section against it. Mega hard. Repeatedly. Illegal.

“woah. not cool,” Benry said, stepping in. “stop hurting people.”

 _“GET IT OFF OF MEEEEE!”_ Freeman shrieked. His empty gun clicked as he continued to squeeze the trigger.

Benry did no such thing. To be fair, this was _very_ funny. He told them to stop, what else is he supposed to do? He’s too busy taking photos over here. Sorry.

Bubby eventually hopped off on his own after getting whaled on by the gun itself. He stood on his two legs, wobbled, and grabbed at Benry’s shoulder for support. His claws sunk through the fabric.

Huh. Claws.

Freeman half-slumped against the wall, looking whoozy, and took aim with his six shooter. 

“Wuh the ell, Grrdnn?” Bubby garbled. Oh hey he got new teeth too, look at that. 

Freeman froze. 

“That's my name. You know my _name_ ,” he said in wonder. “ _Again._ And _you,_ ” he pointed his gun at Benry, “ _also_ knew my name.” He pointed at the clone’s body. “ _He_ knew my name!” 

Bubby let go of Benry and folded his arms, tilting over sideways in the process. He fell to the floor but remained in the same stiff pose as if nothing had happened.

“Duh? E’rrrry oon does.”

Freeman stared at the floor under his feet silently, nodding heavily. 

Without warning, he threw back his head and laughed. 

Bubby glanced up at Benry and gave him a questioning look. Benry shrugged back at him. Freeman’s laugh had gone up an octave into hysterical. Wack.

Bubby pushed himself up to sitting position. “Err,” he said, “‘ ‘r you arright?” 

Freeman stopped abruptly. “I understand now,” he said, dazed and staring at nothing. “I get it. The drug gave me enough clarity to think logically.” He took a deep breath and looked up at Benry.

“I died already,” he proclaimed.

“yeah, so what?” Benry didn’t know what getting blown up before had to do with anything. 

“I’m in hell,” he continued. “You’re all demons sent to torture me.”

A new Coomer clone walked up to them, stopping to stand beside the body of the first. “Good morning, Gordon!” he said. 

“‘Yourrrr cray’ee,” Bubby sniffed. He whipped out his tongue real fast to catch a fly that had been buzzing around the dead clone.

“rude.” Benry added. 

“Yeah, I remember now! CIA Satan spoke to me in a dream about it and everything! None of this is real,” Freeman continued hollowly, ignoring all three of them. “The forces that’ve been controlling me...that’s just my _punishment._ Because I’m _dead._ Nothing I did... _matters_ . It’s... really...all for nothing." His lower lip trembled. "Absolutely. _Nothing._ ” 

Really? Maybe bringing the others in was a bad idea. It’s been like, five minutes, and Freeman was already fast veering into Gordon territory.

“I’m doomed to be haunted for eternity by my fucking...PI, who helped train me in doing bad things" he ranted, throwing his arms up. "...and the clone guy, who I killed in cold blood, and…” his voice trailed off when his eyes landed on Benry. He looked so cute when he was sad. Benry waggled his eyebrows at him and made a smooch sound. Freeman hit the back of his head against the wall and scrunched his eye shut, saying nothing. 

The pause grew awkward.

Bubby cleared his throat. “Sooo…” he said, “wanna...bloo stuff uh?” 

Freeman’s eye snapped open. Crazy again. Benry was finding this guy to be a real whatchmacallit. The board of wood two children play on.

“You know what?” he said, voice quickly regaining its usual zing. “I _would_ like to blow stuff up!” 

He pointed a finger at Bubby sternly. “No tricks, demon! I may be trapped here with all of you,” he swung his hand in a circle to hit all of them, “ but the inverse is true as well. I _will_ find a way to make this hell for you if you fuck with me. We're talking medieval style! Ripping out fingernails and all that!”

Benry tensed. This again? He did torture threats to _everyone?_ Not just Benry? Aggro to anyone, anywhere? 

“I’m probably the smartest guy in this place! You think a twisted up washed up corrupt old soul is going to stop me?” 

“Aw, bloo ih owt yer ash!” Bubby snapped back.

“Glad to oblige a fellow scientist!” said the clone. 

Benry crossed his arms and said nothing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t you get it? THIS is the bad place! 
> 
> Anyway. It’s time for my boy to have some fun :). Don't you agree? I’ve really been putting him through it recently.
> 
> Orange to pink like a sunrise sky means you're about to get high!
> 
> EDIT: Guys, cmon. Of COURSE Freeman can't call Benrey a slur. He doesn't have his passport! : /


	7. Coomer Clone Tier List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hell is other people

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright, you’ve all been very patient while i put all the necessary pieces into place and put Freeman thru some Sad Momence. now we get to have fun again!  
> Check out this amazing fanart by vintagewinedoodles [ here! ](https://vintagewinedoodles.tumblr.com/post/632103050765631488/some-doodles-i-made-thinkin-abt-mimzywhimsy-s)
> 
> [I also commissioned the infamous chapter 6 f-slur scene ](https://tigerdrop.tumblr.com/post/632793830064799744/commission-for-mimzywhimsy-of-a-scene-from-their) by THE Mr. Tiger Drop himself, because I can! Really captures the feral mood.

They were off to a great start.

“Aye alrrrrrready shhhh-. _Said._ We need tuh turn on awl duh lasrrrrrrs.” Bubby hissed from his ceiling corner. He’d taken to crawling against the wall to get from room to room, which was pretty neat to watch. It also made him taller than everyone else by default. Freeman had yelled at Bubby to get on the floor ‘where he belonged’ a couple of times now.

“And _I_ already told _you_ , I’ve already _done this before_ . There’s a giant hole in the wall of the other room to prove it! The laser won’t do jack shit!” Freeman growled up at him. “I mean, I _get_ that it’s cool to watch, but it can’t penetrate the outer wall and isn’t going to do much damage unless we can convince a conga line of aliens to walk right into it!”

“Hello, there! Hold still, this won’t hurt a bit,” added the clone. 

“ _Exactly._ We’re wasting time! What we _should_ be doing is looking for more prototype weapons to blast out of here already! _”_

Bubby gnashed his teeth and started ...pacing? along the wall’s upper edge. “We shtill gotta do it, dumbash!” 

That looked like a good idea, actually. Benry floated up to sit against the opposite ceiling corner. 

“ _What the fuck did you-_ oh great, what’s _he_ doing now?” Freeman gestured up at Benry broadly with a narrowed eye. 

“what’re you talking about? everything’s normal.” Benry boredly retorted. Can’t a guy float around a little without getting the third degree? 

“Positively.” said the clone. He began to climb a stack of crates to be higher up as well.

“oh hey look at that. you’re the smallest guy now, freeman.”

Freeman pointed his gun at him and for one glorious moment, the full heat of his glare was focused on Benry. “I’m still killing you the slowest,” he vowed. “And _you,_ ” he turned his attention to Bubby. “Is dementia starting to creep up on you, grandpa? Are my _simple directions_ still too complicated for something that clearly has half a lizard brain? You’re lucky I’m still too high to feel rage. Obviously ‘don’t fuck with me’ was too complicated of an order for you.” 

Bubby launched himself from against the wall to perch up on top of the laser control button desk thing like a cute little leapfrog. “Are _my_ shimple directions tuh push a damn button too harrrrrd for _djew?”_ he shot back as he pressed it. “Now letsssssss. _Go.”_

He scuttled on out to the next room with a huff. The clone hopped off the crate with a pointed “I--. Concur.” in Freeman’s direction and followed him out. 

Freeman clenched his fists. Angry face. “I _don’t understand,”_ he forced out, “why they’re _doing this._ It isn’t even torture. It’s just _stupid._ Couple of half-senile scientists yelling at me to do things _the wrong way._ This is turning back into a normal day at work with Halloween graphics.” 

Ah, that’s right. “can i see your passport?” Benry asked as he floated back down to the floor. 

“Oh, _do not_ get me started on _you_.”

“huh? start doing what to me? somethin’ gay again i bet.” Benry’s eyes did not leave the new, even more outraged face Freeman was making as he reached for his passport and flipped it open to display it. “pretty cool, right?”

Freeman glanced at it quickly, stopped, and glanced back for longer with a rounded eye. “Holy shit. How are you making the letters _do_ that?” 

“huh?”

“Is it a hologram? But it looks so _solid._ The physics _-_ are we- “

“wha?”

“Is this world _two dimensional?_ ”

Benry simply looked at him. “calm down.”

He shook his head. “No, you’re right. The physical mechanisms of the afterlife, or….whatever dimension I’m in now probably work completely differently. _If at all._ No use wondering about reality. We got more important things to address.” He stepped closer to Benry to stand over him. Pushed the hand holding the passport away with the non-shooty side of his rifle. Oo la la.

“I’m on to you,” he said, shoving the bar into Benry’s face. He didn’t look mad. Kinda serious? But with that usual hint of a mean grin. “If you got bored of me acting sweet on you, then _fine._ But if you want to play, then let’s _play._ Hm?” 

Oh, Freeman. So smart. So high iq. So _sure_ all of a sudden. Driven. The focus of his attention almost felt like a force. Made something spicy bubble in Benry’s chest. Playtime? Time to play?

Benry schooled his expression and pressed his lips together. “Get your hunk of metal away from me, please.” he said in his firm workplace voice. 

Freeman pushed it closer until it rested under Benry’s chin. Hard against his throat. “Why? This is what you want, _right?_ ” He smiled wide. Up close it was easy to see that his eye was still glazed. _Should_ be zonked. Was he going to start hitting him again? 

“why would i want this? don’t touch that, please?” 

Freeman rolled his eye, which was a weird way to dodge the question. But then he licked his lips and leaned closer. Looking at Benry’s mouth, holy shit. _Holy shit._ Benry’s eyebrows were en route to his hairline. Was this really happening? Making out was a super wack seg way considering the opening move, but he wasn’t about to complain about it either. Got them candy reds on lock. 

Freeman took a deep breath, looking awfully intense. And his eye just. Kept on darting down to Benry’s lips. _Nice._ Neat. _Such_ a big cool.

“I want-” he started.

 _“Grrrdon, get your ash over here!”_ Bubby’s faint holler could be heard from down the hall. 

Benry felt the beginnings of a growl rumbling in his chest. He was a patient creature by nature, but even _he_ had his limits.

The clone appeared again. “Greetings! You’ll just have to wait until _after_ the test to- to- t- t- t-.” He fell silent again.

Freeman furrowed his brow and backed away from Benry to turn on the clone. 

“What?” 

The clone smiled back at him. “Hello!” 

“...I think this one’s broken,” he stated. “Either the reality of hell itself is shattering due to my presence, or this _is_ real and Black Mesa is just as cheap when it comes to clone material as it is with everything else-” 

_“GRRDON!”_

_“Alright!”_ Freeman screamed back as he stomped past the clone out the door. “I’m coming! _God!”_

Benry and the clone were now alone. Benry pointed to the laser. “Step right up into there, please?” he asked politely. 

The clone did so and immediately exploded into a shower of meat. Benry stared at the resulting splatter for a little while. It was sort of like cloud watching. One edge was kinda shaped like Luigi. A streak near the center sorta looked like a flower. 

The flower streak warped in on itself. A swirl. Like water circling the drain. If Benry blinked he would’ve missed it. 

Hm.

He noclipped down through the floor. Now he was in one of them zap rooms. The metals in the table and the walls and the cage bars were moving up and down like water. 

He noclipped down again. He was _in_ water now. A swimmy creature with teeth barreled right toward him. Stopped. Swam backwards. Stopped. Swam forwards. Benry internally cheered it on, curious to see if it could break out of the loop. Seems like it couldn’t. Too bad. So sad. He quickly grew bored of it and noclipped through the glass of the tank. 

Things were really getting bananas around here, huh. 

He sang a line of yellow-to-blue, grabbed the end, and cast it forward. It bounced around the glass walls and waffle floors before getting sucked out the door. Benry followed. 

He followed it through walls, through concrete, through rock, through water, through dirt, before looping back into concrete. He was in some sort of factory now. He _thought_ it was a factory, anyway. Everything was kinda fucked. Conveyor belts loop de looped in on themselves. Vats were crumpled up like empty soda cans, their liquids swirling around above. Fountain tornado.

_Now_ we’re talking. This was the work of an _artíst._ And as Benry followed the stream deeper into the building it only got better. Everything stretched and twisted like chewed up bubble gum into a kinda. Tunnel. Tunnel of pulsing white and black. 

_Someone_ was having a bad time, he could tell that much.

Benry entered it and everything crackled purple. Yeesh. He hated when this happened. He could move and all, but it made him feel all sticky. Probably best to move this along. Skip the rest of the cutscene. He teleported to the end.

There was a person curled up in a corner all on his lonesome. Tall. Dark haired. Hands around legs, head pressed into knees. He looked up as Benry approached with wide, red-rimmed eyes. 

Benry’s face broke into an honest smile.

\---

It was unfortunate that they’d been interrupted before Freeman could seal the deal. He’d been _close_ , but- no. The aspirations of youth foiled by the elderly, as always.

Amazing how an existential crisis and an altered brain state to clear the pain away could help change his perspective.

“It really comes down to incentive versus motivation. Earlier, Benrey had tried using _fear_ as an incentive. Y’know, with the whole dog and prison thing? And honestly, as a whole, that was a pretty strong incentive to use! There’s really no bigger stick than the threat of being made into someone else’s bitch. Pun intended. But I’m more of a _carrot_ sort of guy. I guess Benrey must have realized that giving opiates to someone in an unbearable amount of pain would make them super cool with him, super fast. And now I am! Sort of.” Not to mention, the guard seemed to like being on the receiving end of things if the timing of reward was anything to go by. He’d have to be careful with assumptions there though. He was no behavioralist. 

Still. That honestly took a _lot_ of the pressure off. Freeman could admit, he makes a terrible girl in these types of situations. “And hey! Benrey wants to be knocked around, I certainly would _like_ to knock him around after all the shit he’d put me through- plus I get these great drug orbs that make me feel _really_ good as a bonus!” How’s _that_ for internal motivation? 

“You can’t be serious,” said the Einstein clone.

“Oh, I’m _very_ serious. Now, there _is_ a moderate chance that Benrey will try and escalate after a while. I couldn’t be too careful about that..and I won’t be! Worst case, judging by the range the orbs could be fired at I don’t _actually_ need to go mouth to mouth.” If Benrey whined about it he could just spout some lines about him being bad and not deserving it, or whatever. Rentacops -like most sociopathic subtypes- only fell on two ends of the deviance spectrum. So if he didn’t fall on the dominant end then there were many, _many_ ways Freeman could fulfill those masochistic urges without making it sexual. On his part, anyway. He crossed his arms tightly.

“Some might argue that making another man get off for drugs would still be disgusting regardless of additional context, but, they’re all idiots who don’t know what they’re talking about. Men are absolute _pigs._ The list of things they could use as fap fodder coming from a person of interest is long enough to wrap around the world three times over. You might as well argue that being generally attractive makes me gay, because any gay guy that catches a glimpse of me in my prime is bound to get sprung almost immediately. Not my fault, not my problem.”

The clone looked away from Freeman, then back. “I’ll wait.”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Freeman continued tersely. Wait for what, asshole? “The point is, _I’m_ not getting off on it, and I’m only doing it _in the first place_ for incredibly necessary supplies. Purposefully making it steamy would be another issue, but that’s not what’s going on here. _So it doesn’t matter.”_

He paused, silently daring the clone to contradict him. The clone said nothing. 

Freeman hummed. “On that note, the main advantages I have on that front are company, ruthlessness and time.” Company, in the sense that Benrey kept backing off whenever someone else came around, and it seemed that Freeman’s party now had two additional parasites. So he’s not an exhibitionist. Freeman didn’t even need to engineer anything, really- the Kleiner demon and Einstein parade seemed hellbent on clinging to his back. _No_ pun intended. 

Ruthlessness, in that it is becoming painfully obvious that Benrey _still_ doesn’t realize who the fuck he’s dealing with. He thinks his powers keep him safe from being killed, but he isn’t completely invincible either. _Terrible_ combination. “It means that even if I was actively trying to kill him, there would be a window of time when he’d just stand there and do nothing because _durrr haha, i’m stronger than you, bro!_ Once I figure out a viable method of destruction I’m going to use that window to _eradicate_ him.”

Which brought him to time: Benrey was _re_ active instead of _pro_ active, so he had some! That’s more than he could say for literally every other disaster he’s had to deal with since the bright green shitshow had first gone underway.

“Yeah, I’ve taken down Apache helicopters and tanks with zero prior planning. I _think_ I can handle mercing one guy who actively, _literally_ wants me to be within striking distance at all times and clearly isn’t the brightest crayon in the box. I bet if I convinced him that being killed permanently was a must-try kink, he’d tell me how to do it.”

The clone merely coughed in response, barely moving. Freeman squinted at him.

“So what’s your _deal_ , anyway?” Freeman asked him. “Why are you acting like a robot if you’re a clone? _Are_ you a robot?” He would be unsurprised to learn that Benrey had been lying to him about such a petty distinction. 

“Fine. You won’t even know I’m here.” replied the possible robot clone.

“What are you even _talking about?”_ Freeman groaned. “Your answers don’t mean anything! Are you broken, too? Y’know, now that I think about it, it doesn’t make much sense that you’d be a major component in my personal hell. What _pain_ am I supposed to be getting out of this? I mean, you’re _annoying_ , but I’m going to have to be honest: I don’t feel _that_ bad about killing that other one of you. Mostly because if I’m stuck in a time loop, then it _started_ in the dog cage and your murder came after that. Meaning _you were never alive in the first place._ So why am I being punished for it? Is everything in this fake world some sort of test? Like, I won’t get to go to heaven, or achieve nirvana or whatever, until I complete a pacifist run? How the _fuck_ would letting myself be gunned down by soldiers or eaten by aliens possibly cleanse my soul? This is _bullshit_!” 

The robot clone stared into space and said nothing. Freeman shook his shoulder. “Are you even listening?!”

The clone cringed away from him and put his hands over his head protectively. “No! No!”

“Yeah, you _better_ get worried.” 

There was a gunshot close enough to Freeman’s left ear for him to shout. The clone’s head exploded, splattering Freeman with blood. His ear was ringing. He screamed.

“Hello there!” said a voice from behind him. He turned to find another robot clone holding a magnum. 

Freeman gaped at him. “Holy shit…” Are they _turning_ on each other?

“Hurry up, Freeman!” said the gun wielding psychopath. His eyes looked so _empty. All_ the clones’ eyes were like that. It was starting to give Freeman the creeps.

But, it’s hard to argue with such a strong persuader. Freeman followed him into the big laser room to find the impatiently waiting Kleiner demon.

“Okay, I’m _here._ What do you _want?_ ”

“Take a look ah how goh damn smart aye am!” the demon proclaimed.

He pressed a button. The laser activated, bounced off a reinforced mirror shield, and blasted a hole into the ceiling. Freeman whistled, impressed that someone else had achieved something for once. He could see a patch of sky through the hole, so- 

“Hey , we can get onto the roof! Okay! Nice going, demon Kleiner.”

“Yeh betterrrr believe it!” the demon said with a haughty head tilt. God, this guy was so _full of himself_. “An’ thas Doctor Bubby tuh you.”

What a dumb name. Freeman stroked his beard thoughtfully. There wasn’t a lot of high furniture in this room, and all the crates were explosive, but- hey, wait a second. Wait just a goddamn minute here. _Why_ does the demon have a different name? “I mean, he probably _has his own name,_ but why is he telling me that?” What happened to torturing him by looking like his mentor? Has he given up? “He might as well shift into something else if he figures the jig is up. Doing it halfway is just _stupid._ ” Maybe he _wasn’t_ in hell after all, and Kleiner had built this freaky double as some sort of joke-

“Aye can’t take it anymore!” Bubby suddenly burst out. “Whu are djew t _alkin_ about?” 

Freeman started. “What?”

“Yuh keep sayin random sssstuff and then go sssssi-. Shilen-. _Quiet._ Then talkin some more.” Bubby bared his teeth at him. “ Annoying!”

“Crazy!” the clone added.

Freeman felt his face grow hot. Had he- could he really not differentiate his thoughts and his speech anymore?! Oh, no. That’s _basically_ dissociation. He’s pretty sure. Maybe going through this alone for so long had gotten to him. His stomach twisted at the idea of it all. He felt sick. But- He wasn’t-

“I think yuh’ve lossssst it,” Bubby sneered, echoing his thoughts. Could he _read his mind-_ NO. Stop it. Shut the fuck up, you’re not helping things! Freeman grit his teeth, heartbeat going a mile a minute. The good drug feels were _gone._ They’d left the building! This was _bad._ This was _so bad._

Fuck this! He _refused_ to have another episode! “Not after the last one in grad school!” The hospital and the- the trancs- he was getting a headache just remembering it all! “This isn’t helping! Augh!” 

He began to pace. No, that couldn’t be. He was _The Freeman,_ of course he had control over his own mind! This isn’t natural! Who’s _doing this_ to him? Was he the focal point of reality after all? Some unwitting hero being toyed with by a bored god? “Wait, what am I talking about? I already _know_ someone like that!” This was Benrey. It _had_ to be Benrey. “The orbs-!” The orbs were messing with his mind! Making him hallucinate demons and shit- were the clones or Bubby even _real?_ Where had he _gone,_ anyway? He still hadn’t made it to the laser room. Probably dissipated from his corporeal form! Probably watching from above and jeering at Freeman’s confusion! Everyone getting up toward the ceiling before had been code! Code that he’s a puppet! _“I’m not a puppet!”_

Freeman saw red. He raised his gun and shot through the hole at the sky. “You really think you can outsmart me by making me go insane?” he screamed. “ _Fuck off!”_

He felt someone- or _someones_ \- grab at both his arms. He struggled in their grip. Breath began to inconveniently elude him. “Get off of me!” he choked.

“Stop fuckin’ around, moron!” Bubby shouted. 

“Put that down,” the clone added from his other side. Evidently they had each grabbed an arm and were succeeding in forcing him to sit on the ground. Their strength was quite impressive, for old men, Freeman thought dazedly.

Okay, but- they were right. He needed to cool it. He’s wasting ammo. 

Freeman forced himself to take a deep breath. Then another. He pointedly did not look at either of the others’ faces. But he was glad they stayed quiet. He means- they _better_ stay quiet! Otherwise he’d take care of them the old fashioned way! With his _fists!_ Yeah. 

“...I’m good.” he said, after a long moment of collecting himself. He climbed to his feet. “I’m good.”

“Finally!” Bubby harrumphed. “You were gettin’ depresssssin’.”

Freeman turned to scowl at him. “Shut up.”

“Shut up,” the clone repeated. 

“See, this one gets it.” Freeman nodded at the clone appreciatively. Hopefully he’d stick around for a little while longer before he died. “Now, how are we going to get through that hole…”

“Duh hole,” Bubby said.

“Hole!” the clone said. 

“Hole.”

“Hole!”

Freeman did not have the mental energy to parse out whatever those two were doing. Possibly both had broken. He didn’t like that so many of the clones were malfunctioning. That could only mean trouble for him. They were robot slaves and he was the only living human in the near vicinity. “And a _scientist_ no less.”

Bubby snapped out of his hole loop. “What?” 

Fuck, he’d said it out loud _again._ Whatever, it’s fine. He could recover. “Uh, we could probably drag furniture from other rooms. Or- crates…”

“Yes, but with--- r- r- r- r-” the robot clone cut himself off again. Just stood there, silently. 

“Oh god, they really are malfunctioning! The robot rebellion has _begun.”_

Despite having completely black eyes, Freeman couldn’t help but sense that Bubby was rolling them. Taking the effort to lean against a wall to cross his arms certainly helped complete the picture. “He means with ropessss.”

Freeman lowered his brows in the most fuck-you manner possible. “Okay…” he said, voice measured, “where are we going to get _ropes_ though? I know the obvious answer is corpse intestines, but they might be too slippery-”

The clone perked back up .“Absolutely!” he chimed in. He then boldly ran into the stack of explosive crates in the corner, blowing them up immediately. His body smacked against the opposite wall and didn’t get up again.

Freeman winced and clutched at his bandages. Bad memories. “Can the next one of you chucklefucks that shows up _not do that?_ ” he screamed. What had that even _meant?_ Was blowing himself up the clone way of being sarcastic? It _better_ not be. He was getting really tired of taking lip from things that were only half-sentient _at best._

He _distinctly_ heard Bubby snicker. The tips of his ears burned. Laughing at him. _That thing_ thought he could _laugh at him? Oh._ That was _it._ He should’ve beaten the attitude out of him _way_ earlier. Stupid ugly insignificant _waste of cell matter._

He rounded on him and widened his stance. “I’m tired of your lip, you failed experiment freak! Let’s see how well you can crawl along the wall with all your limbs broken!” 

That seemed to have struck some sort of nerve. Bubby’s face contorted into a web of angry wrinkles and needle teeth.

“Dish isn’t even my body!” He lunged at Freeman with a hiss. Freeman reached for his crowbar- damn it, he dropped it earlier! Fuck! He ducked, but Bubby had gotten close enough for the tips of his claws to graze Freeman’s cheek.

Bubby righted himself into a low crouch on the floor. Smoke began to rise from his hands. “Buh I’ll still kick yer ash wih it!”

“Woah, yeah, okay,” Freeman sneered as he began to load shells into his shotgun. This seemed like a fight that’d need higher caliber. “Old man yeller can’t even put in his demonic dentures right and he’s trying to challenge the alpha male as leader. Figures.”

Bubby’s hands burst into flames.

Freeman startled back, stance wavering. “Oh-” 

“Greetings, Gordon!” someone hollered right into his ear.

Freeman spun around with a yell of alarm and shot a hole right through a clone’s chest. It fell onto the ground.

Bubby’s hands stopped being on fire. He rose himself up higher to look between the body and Freeman, mouth parted more than usual. “Oh my Goh, djew killed him!”

“I wasn’t-” Freeman stuttered. “Oh, come on! If you’re trying to mindfuck me at _least_ put in enough effort to make him quit popping up out of nowhere!” 

“I shtill don’t know wha the _hell_ you’re saying,” he griped.

Freeman pointed a finger at him accusingly. “You suck at torturing me!” 

Bubby sneered and spit a glob of black mucus at his feet. “Aw, quit it. Gettin’ tireda this. Cray’ee ass.”

_Crazy._

There he went again. A hundred sneering faces with smirking eyes. Schoolmates. Teachers. Coworkers. His parents. 

“ _Augghhh,”_ Freeman growled, clutching his head and gritting his teeth so hard he could feel his jaw crack. “ _Stop. Calling me that,”_ he ground out. 

“Crazy!” said yet another clone as he entered. 

Freeman wordlessly pointed a gun at him without looking and fired. He heard a body hit the floor. 

Bubby reignited and threw fire at him with an ear splitting screech. “Shut the fuck up!” Freeman screamed back as he fired at him and took cover. 

“Try some ‘a dis Bubby Shpecial, bish!” the demon yelled at him from across the room, firing an explosive round in Freeman’s direction.

“Oh, my god! I’m sick of your shit!” Freeman yelled over the bullet spray. “I hate you! We need to divide up the project and go our separate ways! This is _not_ a productive work relationship!” 

“I’ll sep-rate yerrrrr head from yer torso!” came the voice from above.

“Ugh, the ceiling trick again,” he muttered, adjusting his aim accordingly. “Yeah, I like it! Keep doing the same thing over and over again, it makes you easier to predict!” 

“Fuck yooouuuuuuu.”

Yet another new Einstein clone appeared at Freeman’s shoulder. “Hello!” 

_Perfect. “_ About time you showed up! C’mere, I need to use your body as a meat shield real-” the clone clocked him in the jaw. “Aurgh!” He lit it up. “What the _hell!_ Everyone’s turning on me all of a sudden for no real reason! Am I surprised? I _shouldn’t_ be surprised! This is the seventh grade science fair all over again. My peers never understand me. How could they! I’m too freakin’- awesome at doing their jobs for them!"

Bubby had used the brief distraction to double back to a better vantage point and lob explosives. Freeman nearly slipped on clone blood in his haste to get away. He rounded on the second floor railing and vaulted it to land on the lobby’s front desk. It groaned under the sudden new weight. “Shut up, I’m trying to think!” Freeman scolded it.

He hopped off and kicked it over. “Three second head start.” he muttered, loading up the semi. “Two. One.”

Bubby burst in after him, gun at ready. Freeman lobbed a grenade and ducked back behind the desk. Was that a glimpse of an explosive crossbow he’d seen? “Where the _hell_ did he get that?”

He started firing about as soon as he heard the blast. Though, from the looks of it, it hadn’t done much. Neither were the bullets. “Oh, _come on._ Don’t tell me you can survive getting shot _too,_ ” Freeman groused. Seriously, where the _fuck_ was Benrey? What happened to that psychic tracking ability? Couldn’t he sense that his number one boytoy was in danger?

“Y’know, I think I preferred shooting things that _died and stayed dead_ !” Sure, he had _fewer_ enemies now, but if anything this is _worse._ They have shreds of intelligence between them and know how to learn. That, combined with basic immortality, was _super_ bad news for Freeman. 

Something bonked Freeman on the top of his head. “OW! _I said it was bad already! Stop making it worse!_ ” The object rolled to a stop against his knee. “Is that a _soda can?_ What’s happening?! _Why am I getting assaulted by soft drinks?”_

“Hello there!” A robot clone called. Freeman peeked out to find him standing at the top of the stairwell, holding a rocket launcher. “This should make you feel better.” 

_“Oh no-_ ” 

He barely got away fast enough before the rocket hit. It sent him running right into Bubby, who cackled his Satanic demon laugh and started lobbing fire balls at Freeman’s feet. 

He was making him dance! With fire! Trying to make Freeman his little fire bitch! Time to leave, _time to leave-_

“Not yet, Freeman!” _Crap! Another fucking clone blocking his path motherfucking shit._

Freeman shot him in the kneecaps.

“Try respawning now, you mustachioed asshole!” he called over his shoulder as he ran past. Never let it be said that he couldn’t think under pressure. 

“Gordon!” he heard the imploring tone behind him as he retreated. The clone sounded almost surprised. Moron. 

“Whu the hell, man?” The other one, too.

“Why am I getting scolded right now?” Freeman asked out loud as he continued to flee. “We’re in the middle of a battle! They sound like two nagging aunts! I’ll never understand artificial beings. They make no-”

There was a flash of blinding light.

One of those gargantuan, evil blue monsters dropped down in front of his path. Freeman nearly lost his footing with how hard the floor shook.

“….shit.”

The monster roared.

Freeman turned tail and fled back the way he’d come. The old men were where he’d left them. Bubby was knelt down beside the clone, pawing at his knee. He looked up at Freeman’s footsteps.

“ _Therrrrrre you are,”_ he hissed. _“Back for-”_

Freeman rushed right past them, sprinting at full tilt.

It took maybe, oh, a handful of milliseconds before Bubby was galloping right beside him with a loud “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

Good idea! “AAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!” Freeman contributed.

They clamored over each other in a rush to get into a small side hallway. They plastered themselves against the wall, panting. Bubby’s body twisted around as if compelled by some invisible force until his hands and feet were stuck to the wall. How the fuck could his feet stick with _shoes_ on?

“Whu do we do?” Bubby whisper-hissed to him. 

“Why are you asking me?” Freeman whisper-shouted back. “Bullets don’t work against those things! Use your fire powers!” 

“That won’t work eitherrrrr!” 

The walls around them shook hard enough for paint chips to to rain down on them. A chunk of ceiling fell down near the entrance way as the monster roared again.“We can’t stay here!”

The shaking dissipated a little. Freeman and Bubby nodded at each other and peeked their heads out around the corner. The monster had turned its back and was walking the other way. 

Freeman’s eye darted around. Entrance doors were north. Reception desk was south. Stairs at its three o clock. Laser weapons on the second floor. Last time electricity had made it explode, so maybe they could refract the big laser again in its general direction and pray? The main question was how to get up there .

“Okay,” he whispered, “I don’t know about vision, but it can definitely spot small moving objects like us. I think we should-”

_“HELLO FREEMAN!”_

Freeman jumped so hard his head banged against the corner. He backed back into the hall in a crouch and pressed his hand against it, screaming into his other arm. Seems the opiate orbs had _completely_ worn off.The _giant hole in his head_ certainly seemed agree! Well that sucked! They hardly lasted at all!

A pair of chubby white-clad legs entered his field of vision. A hand patted him on the shoulder. Freeman slapped it away and looked up to find- you guessed it!- another clone smiling placidly at him. 

Freeman made to wrap his hands around the shorter man’s thick neck with a gurgling cry. 

The clone held out an AK-47 for him.

Freeman’s hands dropped. Fuck it. “Oh, thanks,” he said wearily. “I mean, that’s basically useless right now...but thanks.” Yeah, _thanks_ reta-

“Maybe we lurrrrrrre it,” Bubby cut in before he could finish the thought. “Distrrrrract-shon.”

“ _No!_ That’s-” Hm. “ actually...not a bad idea,” Freeman admitted. Look, he was used to dealing with simpletons who died right away. There was going to be a learning curve, alright? “But what are we going to use?”

“Fire!”

“An exssssplosion?”

Freeman nodded thoughtfully. “In most circumstances, I’d agree. But I dunno...I’m not sure those things _care_ about explosions. And anyway, we want to be luring it _toward_ something….” His experience was admittedly limited here. The last one at the rail tracks had spotted him pretty much right away, and had almost overtaken him immediately. “It likes chasing...prey….”

His gaze swung back to the clone. He raised an eyebrow at Bubby and jerked his head toward it.

“No,” Bubby gasped.

“Yes.” he replied firmly.

“Not Dr. Coomerrrrrr!”

 _Another_ bad name! Freeman should make a bingo sheet. “This is _a_ Dr. Coomer. _There have been dozens of Dr. Coomers.”_ Freeman said forcibly. “Why is this one fresh? What happened to the last Dr. Coomer, _Bubby?_ Because _I_ didn’t kill him.” Bubby rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly keen on avoiding eye contact. “You left him for dead, didn’t you? Admit it!” 

Bubby made an angry sounding screeching noise. The back of his lab coat was rising up. Almost as if he had hackles. Or, that’s right! His clothes were actually his skin! Man, if Bubby really was real, Freeman didn’t think he could get over this. It raised _so_ many more questions. Forget vaporization, this thing was ripe for dissection potential.

“It wusssssssss the-” he let out another small, hissing shriek “guh- heat of the moment!” He snapped. He curled in on himself, growling and trembling.

 _Sure_ it was. Well, in any case it looked like Bubby could use some privacy right about now. Freeman wouldn’t needle him during his little breakdown- unlike _some_ people he could name. And the list really was growing, wasn’t it. He now had to deal with more than one person hell bent on following him around kicking him while he was down at his lowest. Benrey still held the top spot on the ranked list of People He Was Going To Kill, but Bubby was fast climbing up to second place with that unbearable attitude of his. 

But he also had more important things to worry about at the moment. Freeman plastered a smile onto his face and looked to Dr. Coomer. “Ay!”

“Hello there!"

“Hi!” He clapped his hands together and advanced on the clone. “Wanna die in a really fun way this time?”

The clone paused to think. “No.” he said simply.

Freeman grasped him by the shoulders and started to steer him toward the hallway entrance. “Well _too bad!_ ” 

The beast was coming back their way now. Freeman gave Coomer a final hard push out into the open. He stumbled a few steps before stopping and turning back to look at them, uncertainty clear on his face. 

“ _Run!”_ Freeman hissed at him, gesturing toward the lobby entrance. With any luck, the beast would walk right through the wall after vaporizing the man to leave a very convenient exit hole. _“The door! Run through the front door! Safety!”_

 _“Rrrrrun, Dr. Coomer!”_ Bubby added, more black stuff dripping from his fangs. Yeah, that’s what he thought. Bubby was just as much of a nasty, stone cold motherfucker as Freeman was. He just didn’t want the responsibility that came with making tough decisions. They both continued to whisper frantic directions and point to the door. 

The clone got the hint, thank god. He started running toward the door at a surprisingly fast speed for his age. 

“Okay,” Freeman murmured, “I think-” The beast had caught sight of the clone and was ambling toward it. “Yes! Let’s go! Go!”

He and Bubby took off in the opposite direction toward the stairwell. With any luck- 

“Behind you!” Bubby shouted. 

Freeman turned to find the beast hot on their tail. He could _also_ see the clone waving at them from the other side of the room from between its feet. What the fuck?

 _“Why is it chasing us instead?”_ Freeman screamed. 

_“I don’t know!”_ Bubby cried.

Freeman let out a wail.

_“Wanna scream about it?”_

_“Okay!”_

The worst part was, Freeman thought as they screamed, was that he was suddenly, painfully certain that he was _actually_ going to die. It had been a while since he’d felt pure panic during this whole ordeal. In a way, it’s been easier when he was on his own. His thoughts were free to help him along. But with the feedback of someone else who _also_ had the rare talent of not-dying right away, well. It indicated a greater emergency.

What was it that Brickhead Security Guard #26 had said to him? ‘I didn’t want to die alone, anyway’?

He stole a glance at Bubby’s decrepit, monstrously ugly face from which the most annoying of noises emerged. He would’ve preferred better company. But at least there was a _little_ honor in this, he guessed? So-

A glass-shattering high pitch sound pierced his ear drums. It was painful enough to make him freeze in his tracks. It didn’t stop.

"MAKE IT STOP!” Freeman tried to scream over it, clamping his hands over his ears and squeezing his eye shut.

Bright lights flashed behind his eyelids. Something popped.

The noise stopped.

The heat stopped. 

So did the shaking.

Freeman should turn around. He needed to turn around. Why was his body locking up again, damn it? What energy was causing this bone deep, instinctual fear? Oh, _now_ it was being a pussy? “I don’t think so,” he muttered, forcing his legs to move again.

The monster was gone. Utterly, completely gone. Not a scrap of body in sight. All that was left was a scorch mark on the floor. Freeman let out a shaky breath.

The lobby was filled with streams of small, gently glowing rainbow colored orbs. They hung like dust in the air. Or spiderwebs. He couldn’t help but think it was beautiful. It felt like he had been transported to the fairy realm.

And in the center of it all stood Benrey.

_Benrey._

Benrey had _single handedly…._

Freeman’s heart was still beating too fast. His throat was tightening as he tried to swallow. The absolute _strength_ that took...he felt light headed. He knew the guard had power, but _this._ This wasn’t invulnerability. This was _destruction._ This was _supremity._ Benrey could probably take out entire armies if he wanted to. _No wonder_ he was so blase about everything. _As usual_ , Freeman wasn’t crazy. He’d been right, yet again. Benrey really was - at the very _least-_ an entity of demigod status. He could squash Freeman like a _bug._

But he wouldn’t. Because he…

Benrey’s eyes finally locked with his. In the glow of the light, they had returned to predator-yellow. 

The guard shot him a slow, lazy, _infuriating_ smirk. 

“yo.” 

And Freeman, to his own horror, felt his face heat up. He couldn’t speak. Didn’t know what to say.

Someone beside Benrey cleared their throat. _Holy crap,_ there was another guy there. Freeman had been so focused on the guard he hadn’t even noticed. What was _wrong_ with him- wait, no. The new guy was on his left. This was just another eye problem.

The new guy was a scientist as well- or at least, he wore the science team uniform. But clothes were no longer a good source of information, clearly. He was tall, and thin, with dishevelled dark hair. Baby faced, but- honestly, the _gauntest_ babyface Freeman had ever seen. It hurt his brain to think about the contradiction. Maybe it was the big eyes. Round puppy dog eyes, ringed with shadow and with too much whites showing. This guy looked like he was about to _crack._

Great. He’d probably endanger the group. He looked like the cry and whine type of breakdown guy instead of the angry and (usefully) bloodlusting type of breakdown guy. Freeman glared at him. 

“Who the hell are you?!” He demanded.

The man raised a hand in greeting, smile wobbly and uncertain.

“Hi,” he said in a wavering, disturbingly childlike voice. “I’m Tommy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe Freeman is Naruto-adjacent in that he needs to try and fight someone to the death before they can be friends 
> 
> Also, I will have to update less often. No more once a weeks, sowwy. I really do get remotivated by and super appreciate all the amazing comments though!
> 
> [ Here are some cute lil basic sketches I drew of the science gang!](https://mimzywhimsy.tumblr.com/post/631708433616404480/the-boys-are-all-here) :D
> 
> yellow-to-blue, where are you?


	8. Soda Soda PopTM vending machine mukbang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's nice to have friends :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> based on an idea by user Wolfieseeksblood, I hereby dub this group Science Team Omega. Both because of their doomsday fucked up evil vibes, as well as in honor of destiel finally becoming canon 💙
> 
> Check out [ this awesome fan comic ](https://www.instagram.com/p/CG1IKKcFquL/?igshid=vrcxx5w3ttlw)of a scene from chapter 1 by user gigaremo!

“Tommy, huh?” Freeman mused. On second thought, he looked... _okay_. It was hard to remember that fear was the normal reaction to have now that he was surrounded by soulless freaks. He didn’t appreciate working with someone on the verge of tears, but, it was actually a much saner reaction to their current predicament than any other human scientist he’s met so far. If this guy understood the seriousness of the situation, then maybe he’d be smart enough to not die. Only time would tell. He didn’t want to waste energy worrying about it. There were more obvious questions to address. 

“And _Benrey_ brought you here?”

Tommy raised a hand to the side of his neck and looked at the floor. “Yeah,” he said in that same strange childish warble. “He saved me from, um,” he cut himself off, blinking rapidly. “...and then he promised me a beyblade if I came and joined you guys.”

Freeman did a double take. “A...beyblade?” Surely, he’d heard wrong. His ears were still recovering from the noise. Or maybe it was slang for something else? Like the way the briefcase holding the nuclear launch codes is called The Football. A Beyblade must be a, what? Weapon? Turbine? Valuable?

Tommy looked up, face brightening. His eyes were still firmly pointed to the side. “Yeah! Like- like ‘let it rip!’ You know?”

And the cold drip of disappointment continues to fall onto the shreds of Freeman’s optimism. “Ah.” he said. The toy. 

The emotional fragility. The childlike speech. The refusal to make eye contact. He knew what this was. It wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence in STEM fields to have people who were good at their work but had other sorts of brain anomalies. Tommy _seemed_ fairly functional, and he’d clearly been smart enough to have a job here. But, God- what was the point of Benrey doing this? Was this another one of his murder mindgames? Dragging an autistic guy out into a warzone with the promise of his favorite toy was _dark._ And here he’d thought the guard was binary when it came to killing people. Guess not! God, it pissed him off so much! All Freeman asked was for a _little_ predictability. Just a little! _Just enough_ to know how to defeat this bored evil god who was currently staring off into space like a stupid fucking- grrrrr. Focus.

He supposed that staying put was a death sentence, so maybe Tommy would have a better chance following them out of here. Probably not, though. Freeman knew what was beyond this complex now. Either the hellish travel through the dam drainage system if this _was_ a time loop, or something even worse in its aftermath. In fact, it almost definitely would be worse, because going through the same thing again with the advantage of hindsight would be _far_ too easy to be an option.

Yeah, this guy was going to get slaughtered. “That’s a shame.”

“The boy just likesssss beyblades Grrdnn,” Bubby snapped up at Freeman from the height of his ankles. “ whahtz yer problem?” 

“Who can say?” Coomer said, rejoining the group with his usual peppy grin. Freeman glared at him. For a robot that was programmed to talk so weirdly, he sure did have a lot of unnecessary snark. And he wasn’t going to just forget that fact he’d completely bungled his job as live bait, either. If Benrey hadn’t shown up when he did, that little fuck up would’ve killed Freeman _dead._

“Shut up. Let’s just go. The universe keeps punishing me if I stay in one spot for too long, and I think that monster Benrey just blew up was the first taste.” 

“Ffffinally!” Bubby said, quickly scuttling back toward the stairwell and up the steps like a frightened child’s worst nightmare. 

“Go!” Coomer cheered, running up after him at a disconcerting speed.

“Oh! Is this a race?” Tommy asked. He took off running before Freeman could answer. Which was...interesting, to say the least. Not the reaction he’d expect from someone who looked like he was about to have a meltdown not five seconds earlier. He guessed the mention of beyblades must have been enough to turn his mood around. Look at him go. 

That left just him and Benrey. He didn’t like this. Just look at him, standing around not paying attention like he didn’t pop a near-unkillable beast just now. The more Freeman thought about it, the more his heart pounded against his ribcage and his teeth ground against each other. He didn’t know what it was, but looking at Benrey, and being _alone_ with him again, was making him so…. _angry._ Instead of feeling grateful, he felt like bashing the guard’s head in. He didn’t like that, either. These weren’t rational thoughts.

Benrey snapped out of it and shot him a leering grin that added another spike to Freeman’s blood pressure. “hey, can i see your-”

“Nope!” Freeman interrupted, much too loudly. He turned and began running toward the stairwell. “Gotta go! _Bye!”_

This was such bullshit, he thought as the tightness in his chest grew. Freeman had _just_ been running from that other thing! So idiotic, he groused as he all but deadsprinted up the stairs. He shouldn’t have to waste his energy like this. This never would have happened if the other three hadn’t started to race. 

He heard rapid, heavy footsteps quickly gaining on him. “sus boy fleeing, in pursuit,” he heard, followed by a poorly voiced impression of a walkie talkie crackling. 

“Shit!” He was about to get pounce o- tackled. He meant tackled! Not eaten, jeez. Ripped to shreds on the turn of a dime? Is that a new possibility? A spark zinged up his spine at the very thought of it all.Freeman clamped his mouth shut to stop a wail. He couldn’t take it! He’s too tired to fight someone off of him from the ground! In fact, the concept itself was terrifying! That’s how annoying it was to him! Terrifyingly annoying! 

He felt a breeze on the back of his neck. Oh god. The animalistic panic part of his brain was still exhausted from before, but _boy_ was it trying. Freeman felt one final burst of energy rush down his spine and through his limbs and it carried him over the finish line and into the laser room.

He took a knee, panting, one fist raised into the air. “I did it!” he gasped. “I’m,” he looked up to the rest of the group. “Wh- _Oh…my God,”_ he finished with a horrified wheeze.

A hundred pairs of blank, dead eyes stared back at him from a pile of dead Coomer clones stacked all the way up to the ceiling. Some of their heads were twisted at wrong angles. Others were riddled with holes or had charred, blackened skin. The smell knocked Freeman right back over onto his hands and knees. He stared at the floor, dry heaving, so that he didn’t have to look at the monstrosity before him.

“I don’t know- I just walked in and they were like this, mister!” he heard Tommy say quickly. Like, what? Did he think Freeman would blame _him_ for this? There were three literal monsters that already fit the profile. Who was he kidding- he knew _exactly_ who was to blame for this.

“Hello, Freeman.” he heard from above. He looked up to see a much bloodier looking Coomer. Was this one different? Where did the one that ran up with them go?

“This Dr. Coomer shot the other one when we arrrrrrved,” Bubby added, as if reading his mind. _Again._ Accusations of a mental break be damned, Freeman could spot the beginning of a pattern when he saw one. He wasn't ruling out that possibility _just_ yet. _Fuck you,_ Freeman thought at him. Bubby looked more pissy than normal, but that could be about anything.

Freeman reached out a shaking hand and grasped onto the edge of this Coomer’s labcoat. “W-why?”

“Stairs!” Coomer answered cheerfully. Oh, of course. Yeah, pile up all the bodies to form a staircase. How dumb of Freeman for not automatically understanding.

God, he was already so tired. He needed a moment. Needed- need Benrey. Maybe he had stimulant orbs. He couldn’t ask right this moment, thought. Too busy panting. He groaned and rolled over to a sitting position.

Tommy had wandered over and now crouched down beside him. He pulled a soda can out of his coat and extended it out to Freeman. “Here, have a soda. It’ll make you see faster.”

“Cool. Yeah.” he managed to choke out as he grabbed it and cracked it open. He guzzled half of it down. “Oh my God, it’s still cold,” he groaned before finishing the rest. He pressed the empty can against his forehead and winced. 

“Hey.” he said, Hey! He felt...different. Like small bursts of energy were flowing through his veins. “This is fantastic!” What was this? Just a sugar and caffeine high? It’d been a while since eating those doritos way back in admin, now that he thought about it. “Tommy, you are a _life saver._ ” 

“Yeah, I like that flavor, too.” Tommy replied. “Beta version from a friend in mixology” Mixology? So, what, was this alcoholic? Freeman turned the can around in his palm excitedly. Oh. Looked like a regular old vending machine soda to him. Tommy must just know someone who works at SodaPop Inc.

There was the sound of heavy boot steps growing closer from behind him. “huh? what’s this? you killed this?” he heard Benrey say in that very annoying monotone voice. 

Any trace of good mood suddenly vanished. _“No,_ ” he ground out. He clamored up to his feet again. It was preferable to look at the pile of dead bodies in front of him rather than turn around to look at Benrey. He might hate Benrey, actually. More than everyone else, that is. “Anyway, how do we even know that these…’stairs’ are stable? You try it out?”

“This all looks nominal.” Coomer replied, hands on his hips as he surveyed the carnage before him. He began to climb up the side, using limbs and heads as footholds. Corpse mountain climbing. Well....it was staying firm, at least. Bubby was getting up super easy as well, but as the guy who could stick to walls he hardly counted. He supposed it wasn’t any more gross than the other crap he’s had to deal with.

Tommy stuck close by to him as they began to climb. Good instincts. Stick by the guy who clearly is smart enough to survive rather than Freak # 1, 2 or 3. He could keep up, too, though those long-ass limbs might have something to do with it.

“You don’t seem bothered by this,” Freeman said conversationally. “What’s your division? I hang out around Biology a lot, but I don’t think I’ve seen you around.”

Tommy hummed. “No, I work in Experimental Propulsion.”

“Ah!” So, rocket science? Not bad. 

“Though, Mr. Freeman, I-” he continued “I’ve got some friends in Human Resources, so I’ve certainly seen _you,”_ he laughed.

Freeman groaned. Damn it, he knew HR constantly riding his dick would lead to networking consequences! Just bureaucratic meddling, interfering with his career. “Yeah? Well don’t believe everything you hear. That department’s full of worse gossip nags than Security. And it’s _Doctor Freeman_. Or even Gordon, whatever! Just none of that ‘Mister’ crap. You should know better than that.”

“Oh, it’s okay Dr. Freeman. I don’t care that you’re a complete asshole.” Tommy said matter of factly. He climbed on up ahead as Freeman tried to sputter out a response. Well with _that_ sort of passive aggressive attitude, it wasn’t surprising he was all buddy-buddy with HR. He probably fit right in with that hen circle, clucking. He shouldn’t have to take this! Especially from someone who’s- whatever. Tommy better watch himself. He wasn’t getting a free pass to potentially get Freeman killed just because he wasn’t normal. And you know what’s a way to get him killed? Focusing on stupid social politics crap instead of the situation at hand, that’s what. 

He heard Benrey whistle from below. “damn. likin’ the view from back here.”

He kicked down toward where he assumed Benrey’s face was without much thought. “ _Speaking_ of HR,” he growled as he continued to stomp down on empty air. Just the thought of Benrey’s eyes on his ass was getting him mad again. _Come. On._ He thought heatedly. Bring your face just a little closer, fucker. It was a very good idea to stomp Benrey's nose in right this instance, actually. Maybe he was into getting stepped on or something. Get Freeman another drug orb freebee. 

“what’re you kickin’ at? fuck your vision up that much?” he heard from above. His gaze shot up to find Benrey now above him. Ah. So he can teleport, too. Freeman didn’t even want to bother getting surprised. Or disappointed. Or upset. What was even the point? Freeman was as much of a toy as that stupid _fucking_ beyblade. _Put your head down, keep climbing._

He crawled up out of the hole to find everyone already standing around waiting for him.He glared at them all, daring them to say anything about him being last. 

“Okay,” he said when no one did so. “Weapons?” 

Coomer and Bubby held up machine guns. Benrey had wandered off to one of the edges of the rooftop. Tommy shrugged. He confirmed he’d never shot anything when Freeman asked, too. Freeman pawned off his lightest handgun that he’d miss the least. 

“We can’t waste ammo with target practice right now, so just try and point and shoot. And keep the safety _on,_ I don’t need you accidently shooting- that noise.” That beeping noise, the fucking _turrets_ \- “take cover!” he shouted, managing to take out one before the other opened fire. He dove down flat. Fucking Benrey walking toward the edge of the roof, shit, if he didn’t get headshot right this moment he was going to pop his head clean off or poke those big yellow eyes clean out of their sockets, and- 

The shooting had cut off. What? He raised his head to see Tommy, still standing, gun still smoking.

“I thought you said you never fired a gun.” he said in shock. 

“I haven’t, Dr. Freeman!” Tommy insisted, flapping his hands around. One of which was still holding the gun _with the finger on the trigger._ “This is all- it’s one hundred percent instinct!” 

“Tommy, the _safety-!”_ Freeman yelled, trying to dodge out of range in case he set the gun off. _“_ TOMMY!”

\--

Benry couldn’t be more pleased now that one of his very best friends was here. This one didn’t recognize him, but- it was chill. Totally fine. It hadn’t taken much for them to click the first time around, so this time shouldn’t be much different.

He didn’t see the point of remembering much of his daily life- after all, what would that do besides take up brainspace that could be filled with toptier strats?- but he sure did remember his and Tommy’s first meeting. He’d been watching the fight between Rosenberg and Coomer instead of pitching in, because. Well. Watching it go down was much funner than breaking it up. Especially when Coomer started smashing skulls against the bar top. Neat. 

Tommy had been watching, too. Looking at it the way the science guys would look at particles and rocks and numbers written on whiteboards. The way the guards looked at the TV and their lil’ shooty targets. It was...a little sus. Not Normal. But stranger still, Tommy had turned his head to look at _him._

Benry wasn’t used to being noticed when he didn’t want to be noticed. 

“Hey,” Tommy had said, approaching him with arm stuck out. Made him look a dumb. “I’m Tommy :)” 

“...cool.” Benry had replied, crossing his arms. He wasn’t scared, exactly. Tommy didn’t register to him on any level of uh. Freak quincy. And yet. Some scrap of instinct left over from closer to when he’d hatched peeked its head up when Tommy neared. Something twinged deep in his belly to let him know that whatever Tommy was, it could eat him. Given the right moment, of course. Fine for now, but don’t go limping around him when you’re injured. Elsewise, his jaw might unhinge 

How very, very interesting. 

Thing is, Benry wasn’t small nomore. Not even close. The window for the possibility of him being eaten had long passed. And besides all that, Tommy didn’t look very hungry for him. Moreso curious. It was an overlapping feeling that Benry could understand. 

“benry,” he decided to tell Tommy. “nice to meetcha.”

From then on, if Tommy happened to pass Benry in the halls, he’d say hi. If it was right in the morning, he’d say good morning. If he was leaving for the day, he’d take the time to say good night. No one else in the whole Black Mesa facility ever, ever told him good night. So nice. So big hearted. Tommy must care. Tommy _must_ be his friend. It made Benry feel good, to have a bestfriend say hello to him.

He could tell when Tommy watched him. He watched him quite a lot. It was fine, because he sometimes watched Tommy, too. Well- it was his job, after all. Guarding. Guards gotta go and keep watch for stuff. So he knew when Tommy bounced around from Rockets to Bio to HR, and Benry couldn’t figure out why. Since his job included getting answers, detecting and all that, he decided to find out. 

One lunch break, not long after Tommy moved to HR, he barged through the door with a very loud “TOMMY!”

Shouting humans’ names in a quiet place was the best way to get their attention. He knew that for a fact. 

“Sir,” said the front desk lady.

“TO-MMY!” he called again.

“Sir, can I help-”

“Oh, he’s uh- must be looking for me, Susan,” Tommy said as he appeared at the desk lady’s shoulder. He looked at Benry and smiled with his closed mouth. “Benry, right?”

“haha. quit your day job.” Benry said. He never understood human jokes when it came to pretending to not know someone. “i got some uuuhhhh….questions ‘bout a case i’d like to ask.” 

Tommy had taken him to his ‘office,’ which was really more of a cubicle. But then, Benry wasn’t exactly an office expert, so maybe it really was one. He told Tommy as much. 

Tommy had laughed at that. Or, better to say it was more of a giggle. Covered his mouth and everything.

“Mr. Benry,” he’d said, eyes full of warmth to the point of glowing. “You’re a- a bit of a trouble maker. I can tell. Causing tricks like a fox does to a whole pack of hounds.”

Benry was still curious about the job to job switcheroo, but now that they were in more of a squished space more pressing matters came to mind. Something that almost immediately drove Benry practically bonkers.

“can i smell you?” he blurted out. 

Tommy shrugged and pulled his coat sleeve up to show his wrist. He extended it toward Benry. “Go right ahead!” He looked pretty happy about it already, legs kicking back and forth under his seat. Must not be as rude a question as Benry’d been told. Just Jefferem being a lying liarman, as usual.

Benry leaned in to take a few whiffs and - yup. Definitely could’ve eaten him at one point. He smelled of interest and joy. Bright yellow. Flashlight. It was good-feeling to notice. Tommy was nice. Something about it all made Benry want to stick around him.

“i like you,” he told Tommy once he had his fill and pulled back. 

“I like you too, Benry!” Tommy replied with a wide smile. “I’m glad I’ve met you! I like mean people. They’re always the most interesting.”

Benry tilted his head. “huh? i’m not mean.”

Tommy leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow. Benry knew that signal.

“i don’t want to be bad,” Benry insisted. “i’m just chillin’.”

Tommy tapped at his chin and rolled his yellow-glowstick eyes off to the side. “Do you- do you think wanting has all that much to do with it?”

Benry felt a wave of sadness crest up from Tommy’s scent glands and crash right toward him. Poor baby. He must be pretty young, to still bother getting sad about anything. He’d learn there wasn’t much of a point, if he survived into adulthood. It’s ok, though. He liked calling grown up humans babies, because they always got so strung up when he did it. But he didn’t have much of a problem with any sort of baby itself, provided it was different from whatever Benry was and held no threat of taking territory. He liked them a lot better, in fact. Liked being nice to them. He found they listened to him more. And were _way_ easier to take down if necessary. 

Benry extended his arms toward him. “hug?”

After they’d hugged it out, Tommy asked for a teeny tiny blood sample. Fine by Benry. Tommy, in turn, was willing enough to answer Benry’s questions.

“My dad’s an administrator here,” he told him. “I think he’s maybe hoping to make me all well-rounded. Knowledge about all fields like a- like a super computer or something. All to prepare for my career, he says.” He looked down toward his hands and twiddled his thumbs. “I like it though. I like learning new things.” 

It was a little anti-climate tick to hear that sort of answer, but all and all Benry considered it a good visit. They continued to say hi, and good morning, and good night, and occasionally ate lunch together and talked. Or, well- Tommy drank soda for lunch, and Benry ate nothing. He got real excited talking about working with bio friends to make the perfect animal, and it was all thanks to Benry. Benry didn’t know what he had to do with all that, but he was happy to help out a friend. He in turn got to talk about whatever game he was playing at the time, like CoD and Bioshock. Even tried to invite Tommy over to play a whole bunch, though he always said he was busy. 

Tommy was eventually moved from HR to Anonymous Materials, and the big green glowy dimension rip happened not long after that. The rest, as a voice over narrator might say, was history.

 _This_ Tommy, though. Woof. 

Leave it to everyone over here to be all fucked up. First Gordon, now Tommy. Maybe Benry was just harshing the vibes. But still. The whole thing had been a pain in the first place. This Tommy, first of all, was _super_ hard to get to. Benry almost ragequit trying to break through that 403 code forbidden-access wall. Lucky Freeman had taken so long to wake up from his lil beauty rest in his cage, so he had plenty of time. But once he cracked it, Tommy’d blipped out. Very weird. Benry found him eventually but he was all crying and red and not so much fun as the Friendtommy he knew and loved. 

_Baby_ , Benry had to remind himself. 

So he helped Tommy undo all the fuckups he’d done to the factory until it was basically back to normal. 

“What are you?” was the first thing this Tommy said with wide, wide eyes and trembling lip. 

Benry looked away from him. “huh? what?”

There was a length of silence. His ears pricked when he heard Tommy suck in a breath. Slate grey scent. “Aw, I’m sorry. That’s- that was pretty rude- pretty not nice to ask” he paused. 

“What am _I?_ ” 

Benry had looked back at him and shrugged. Eyes the same glowstick yellow. Scent the same. Face markings the same. It was hard, sometimes, to remember no one here was the same exact person. Humans didn’t have that much variety to begin with. 

“you’re my friend,” he said simply. 

It was true. Most ways, he still was.

 _“Onward!”_ Bubby cried, running toward the tunnel like a big old puppydog with his labcoat flapping behind him. Coomer was right on his heels with a cheerful “You lead the way!” 

“Shit.” said Freeman. “I forgot. They’re about to collapse that tunnel.”

Oh, really? Benry jumped down from the ledge to get a better view. What were all those orange crates doing in the way?

“Why do you say that, Dr. Freeman?” asked Tommy.

Coomer ran straight into the crates, blowing them all up immediately. A plume of fire blasted back through the entrance. The ground shook.

“nice.” said Benry.

“That.” Freeman said tonelessly. “I just remembered _that._ ”

He was wrong, though. Benry wandered in to investigate. The tunnel didn’t collapse. Bubby was waiting near a green button up ahead. 

“oh, look at that. big door.” Benry pointed out to Tommy when he and Freeman caught up. Tommy did not answer. Most likely because Freeman wouldn’t quit talking. Hm. Don't like that.

“-and make sure you keep count, that’s super fucking important in the middle of a firefight. Besides that, you’re also going to want to center yourself so your arms don’t jerk all the way up, though you got the turret pretty easily back there. You _sure_ you’ve never done this before?”

“No, I-”

“Oh, right! Breathing! Don’t go getting all panicky on me when we run through there, Tommy. There might be another Apache helicopter, I don’t know. Last I checked we don’t have any RPGs at this point, so just try to not get shot before you jump into the water. And for _God’s sake,_ if you think you’ve been fatally hit, do us all a favor and throw your extra ammo in our general direction so it’s easier to get to.”

“I guess I can do tha-”

“Great! Alright, so there are a few soldiers past that door. When I killed them last time they didn’t hear the turrets. Now, I thought they might’ve been listening to the radio too loud to hear it? But _now_ they’re not even responding to that huge explosion. I think they might be deaf. I guess good on the army for hiring the disabled. _I’m_ not complaining-”

Tommy shot Benry a look. Ah, that was a good face. Benry copied it back to him the best he could. Tommy shook his head and looked back to Freeman.

“We should use these guys for practice Is that bad to say? I just mean, they’d be easier targets for you. There’s one on each side of the door, so you can take one of them and me the other.”

Tommy shifted the gun in his hands and hopped from foot to foot. “Okay. I’ll...try my best Mr. Freeman! I’ll try harder than a….a tiger jumping through a hoop!”

“It’s _Doctor-_ ”

“Can you jussssst press this button already?” Bubby demanded.

“I’m surprised you didn’t want to do the honors, Bubby! Considering your propensity for drama and all.” Freeman shot back as he reached for the button.

“That’s _Doctor_ Bubby-” 

Tommy ran forward with a shout as soon as the door opened until he was all the way out of the tunnel. He was immediately shot at from the soldiers against the wall behind him.

“Tom-! Oh, forget it. He’s dead.” Freeman muttered, motioning for everyone to duck back behind their cover. He sounded sore about it. “Just another mess I need to clean up! Perfect.”

Bubby nodded solemnly. “Anotherrrrr death on your watch, Grrdnn.”

“Shut up!” Freeman snapped. “Let’s see you train the next recruit we come across, lizard brain!”

No more shooty noises. Benry peeked back around while those two continued to yammer at each other. Tommy was still standing in the same spot, looking kinda shaky. His face and coat were marked with small blood splatter. 

“oh, yoooo! Tommy aim-assist!” he called gleefully.

“...What?” Freeman pushed Benry to the side so he could peek over as well. Very mean. But he kept his hand on Benry’s shoulder, so less mean. 50% off the crime punishment, maybe. “Holy shit, Tommy! You did that?”

“Yes,” Tommy said lowly. He kept the gun aimed at a soldier body full of holes. Kinda looked pulp-included. Lots of blood leakage. His eyes remained fixed on the same spot, “That is- I don’t think shooting will be a problem, Dr. Freeman.”

Freeman looked down at where his hand was on Benry's arm and yanked it away. Made super duper mad face at Benry. Ooooh, real scary. Benry wandered over to the body and popped a squat in front of it. He stuck his finger in one of the bullet holes and put it back into his mouth. “blood good,” he mumbled, teal leaking from the corner of his mouth. He sang more teal around it, dipping his finger in for another tasty snack treat. 

There was the pitter patter of sneaky scienceman feet behind him. Benry whirled around on creeping little Bubby. “get your own, please?” he asked nicely, baring his teeth.

Bubby froze, caught in the act. Guilty old tubeman. He raised himself up to sitting, criss crossing both arms and feet, nose turned up and away. “Hmph. I would _never,_ ” he said pissily. “Eatin’ anothrrr human? Pleasssssse. That would be disgussssssting.” 

“uh huh.” said Benry, unconvinced. “why’re you droolin’ all over my meats then, fool?”

Bubby harrumphed again and scooted until his back was facing Benry. Whatever. He turned back to his meal.

“...What is he doing?” he heard Freeman ask.

“Looks like he’s eating that soldier.”

“Uh, _yeah._ I can see that much for myself, _Tommy._ I meant the singing….teal orb string stuff.”

“He’ssss wrappin’ it in a cocoon.”

“Teal means- it means need meal!” Tommy blurted out. There was a pause and some shuffling. “Huh! Isn’t it interesting how Benry’s species developed a communication system that also works as a tool, Dr. Freeman?” 

“Yeah...a tool, a weapon, or mind altering venom. And I think the colors match on to what does what? He spits it all out his mouth, but I’m assuming they must come from different organs. Either that, or maybe different combinations of state-dependent peptides change the base chemistry. Pretty fascinating.”

Benry hummed some pink in with the teal by accident. He _was_ pretty and fascinating, wasn’t he.

“And that’s pink, like a blush...he likes what you said very much!”

“...How do you-”

The end of what he said was covered up by shooty sounds from the tunnel ahead. Oh, bummer. More of that so soon. Maybe no mealtime. But then it all stopped and the sound of footsteps through sand got closer.

“Hello, Freeman!”

“Oh, you killed the other two guys up ahead? That is...” he paused. “ I’m shocked with how pleased I am right now. Seriously. I’m” lol, was Freeman choking up? Gonna cry? Cry and piss his pants, maybe? “...where did you even _come from_ ? The other side of that’s just a- you know what? I’m not going to even question it right now. You did good, Dr. Coomer. I’ll be a little more pissed off when you die ten minutes from now. So anyway. Tommy. You said you worked in the propulsion labs? How is Benrey’s orb language part of the-” There was a punching noise and the clang of metal. “ _Ow!_ What is your _problem?_ ”

“Positively!” There was another, less loud clang noise.

“I said stop it! You wanna get shot? Is that it? You things have a death drive stronger than fucking lemmings, I swear to _God_ ” 

Benry split his body down the middle into a big mouth. He grasped the cocooned meal within his new teeth, wrapped his tongue around the middle, and swallowed it down in one bite. He fused himself back together and burped. “whoops. ‘scuse me.” No more feeling peckish for Benry. Good times.

“Okay, I’m sick of this. Let’s just go. Benr- where’d the cocoon thing go?”

“what?” Benry asked, standing back up. He walked past the group quickly to head for the next tunnel. “it’s not a big deal. let’s keep going, please?” 

“...Fine. Glad we’re on the same page. Other monster, you satiated?”

“W-what?” Bubby sputtered. “I am a prrrfect arrrrtificial sssscientist sssssssspecimen. I don’t eat people, jackasssss!”

Freeman laughed meanly. “Man. I know us physicists rag on biology as a soft science, but when times like these come up, can you really blame us? ’Perfect scientist’? I mean, you’re very interesting as a subject, don’t get me wrong…”

“Ssssspoken like a true know-nothin’ fresh meat right outta grad school,” Bubby snarked back. “How many journalssss witha impact factrrr over 20 have _you_ been published in, huh?”

“Well- that’s hardly-” Freeman stuttered. “You said yourself! I basically _just_ graduated my program-”

“From ssspeakin’ to you alone I can tell it’s zrrrrro.”

“Okay, you know w- y-." Freeman made a strained noise "Ready for round two already, you bald fuck?! ”

Tommy must have ran up ahead, because he appeared at Benry’s side as he entered the cool of the tunnel. 

“Heya, Mr. Benrey.”

Benry jerked his chin up at him. “sup.”

“Why could I read your colors like that?” he asked. Benry groaned internally. He _hated_ answering questions about this stuff. No one ever leaves him alone after the first answer. 

“huh? it’s not special. your uh…” what was that animal again? The one Freeman was obsessed with. “bark bark pet does the same thing.”

“Bark bark…? Do you mean a dog?" Benry hummed but said nothing. " I...don’t _have_ a dog though?”

Benry went cold. Uh oh. The haunted house feeling was coming back. “huh? you didn’t make a dog? why not?”

Tommy let out a breathy laugh. “I don’t- we don’t _make_ pets here, Mr. Benrey! I’d adopt a dog if I wanted one! Though to be honest, I’m really more of a cat person myself.”

“.....cat.” Benry repeated. He knew about cats. They were the opposite animal of dogs. None of this was right. The bad feels got worse. “didn’t you make..." he furrowed his brows and pressed his hand against his forehead, focused on remembering. “animal in biography department?”

“Biogra- oh. Biology! No, I work in Exper- with rockets. “

“no.” Benry insisted forcefully. “ _No._ After Rockets.”

“Well that’s what I’m _saying._ I only ever- are you alright?” 

Benry risked peeking up at him. Tommy was looking down on him the way he usually looked at him: smiling, friendly, curious. Glowstick eyes starting to get all shiny. This was Tommy. Was it Tommy? Forbidden ultra-rare shiny Tommy? No? Imposter? Trick Benry?

Benry stopped walking. “can I see your passport?”

One side of Tommy’s mouth ticked up higher. “Passport? I’m not sure what you- you seem wound up like a….a weasel on a spring!”

“Is he bothering you about passports?” Freeman called. “Just tell him to fuck o- actually, you know what? Get over here, Benrey.”

Benry put the bad feelings on hold. Call for Benry? Well, well. Looks like someone was feeling a little peanut butter and jelly. He felt all smug as he trotted over. Couldn't handle Benry talking to another guy? Cute. “yeah?” he said, looking up at Freeman’s face curiously. Nice, but something still wrong here. His vibes had been wack ever since Benry had come back with Tommy.

“You-” he stopped. Swallowed. Looked away. “Forget it. Bad idea of yours to come over. I shouldn’t even bother telling you to do anything.”

Benry nodded. Good that he's learning, even if it's a bit slow goings. “that’s right. because it’s the opposite.”

Freeman snorted. He _still_ wasn’t looking. Rude. Not cool. “ Me listening to you? Good luck with that.”

“nice. thanks. you should.” He replied shortly. Was the wall of the tunnel interesting to him or something? Secrets? Criminal secrets? 

“Yeah. Key word _should._ ” Oh, no. Not the tired boring voice. He needed to fix this, stat. Going critical. Five seesees of uh, ultrahot spice please.

Benry smacked his lips. “still need that illegal contraband, doncha gordog?”

Freeman’s head snapped back around. Face all twisted.The blood under the skin of his face was moving awful fast. “THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING! SHUT UP!”

 _Much_ better. “chill out, man.”

They'd reached outside and stopped by Tommy to look. Past some rocks, a whirlly loud thing was up in the sky flying back and forth. Concrete stuff in the distance was getting blown up too.

“I am rather looking forward to this!” Coomer called as he jogged past them. He was holding a large metal tube.

“ _I’m_ not! First time was-” Freeman made a high noise. “Is that an RPG? Oh my god, Dr. Coomer…”

“Yes!” said Coomer. He stopped to shoot a rocket at the thing in the sky. 

“Okay, you...” His voice trailed off as Tommy and Bubby started to run up ahead. “Take care of that? Is this happening?” Freeman smacked at his own cheek. Hitting himself now?

“what?”

“Nothing.” Shooty noises up ahead now. Freeman started running forward, taking a big gun in hand. “Are you guys good? Hey! I want to kill one too, don’t headshot him!”

Benry stopped in his place on the bridge and stared up at the sky. The whirly thing was still up there, though now it was on fire and wobbling. Benry flashed his passport at it. “come down right now, please?”

“Holy shit, Bubby! You ripped that guy’s throat right out!” he heard over the noise.

“Ssssso what?”

Something else -rocket?- hit it. It exploded and sank lower in the sky and flew over Benry’s head, shooting right at him. Illegal. Red flag. Benry showed his passport again. “come down please?”

“There’s a hole in the door, Dr. Freeman!”

"Hole."

The thing stopped midair and fell down to the canyon below. Big crash. Someone crawled out of it and ran around in circles while completely on fire. “thank you.”

He - and Coomer now beside him- went the rest of the way across the bridge to the others. They were standing in front of another metal door, staring at a hole in it. 

“That’s almost person shaped, isn’t it?” Freeman said, hand on his chin. He took a step back. “Actually…” he glanced behind him. “Yeah. Get over here, Dr. Coomer.”

Coomer moved closer. 

“That’s about the same height and width, isn’t it?”

“Are you suggesssssstin’ he busted through?” Bubby asked, crawling up the door and around the hole. He had blood all over him all of a sudden.

“Wow, Dr. Coomer would have to be able to turn into a giant cannonball to do that.” Tommy said in awe, also more covered with blood now.

Dr. Coomer shrugged. "Hole!" He then walked over to the side of the bridge and leapt off of it without another word.

Everyone stared down in silence as his body fell to the ground. A dust cloud rose up from the body.

“Okay,” Freeman finally said. “I guess we’ll never know now, will we? Hey, how many disaffected workers throw themselves off of the dam per year, do you think? From the shit I’ve been seeing so far, they should probably put up nets.”

Tommy shook his head sternly and turned toward him. “This dam walkway is built up to code, Dr. Freeman. It’s very safe.”

“Bullshit!" Freeman spat, pointing a finger in Tommy's face. "Yeah, I’ll _bet_ that’s what your pals over in HR told you! But the truth is, the world is full of liars telling lies. Death and lies, Tommy.”

“And you called me drrrrmatic,” Bubby grumbled. 

“No, I’ve read the OSHA handbook, Mr. Freeman.” Tommy said, slower. He was sounding the way original Tommy did when speaking to his dog. “I’m telling you, this is how they’re supposed to build it.”

Bored with the conversation, Benry wandered back to the metal sheet. It should probably stop being in the way at this point.“door open. door open, please?”

The door didn’t move. Hm. “open door?” he tried.

There was a whirring noise. The metal lifted to open. Better.

He turned back to find the other three staring at him. 

“Did that doorrrrr just fuckin’ listen to you?” Bubby demanded.

“huh?” Listen? Doors didn't have listening parts.

“He’s not going to answer you,” Freeman snapped. He was...glaring? At Benry? Huffy. Benry raised his eyebrows. Oh, what. Was he seriously mad? Always mad at the wrong times, lately. Not big big mad, but it mostly wasn’t too much fun, either. Starting to feel like Real Gordon Hours around here. Benry was being such a big assist, and not one thank you smooch to show for it. Freeman must be taking him for some sort of simp. Can't have that.

“Let’s just go. I’m sure whatever’s through here isn’t worse than taking the long way around.” Freeman said, pushing past him.

“Yeah…” Tommy said, reloading his gun. He made eye contact with Benry. “I’m sure you’re right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hlvrai commentary: Benrey and Tommy were good friends before rescas :)  
> Me, thinking about the fact that the tone Tommy used to say “hi” to Benrey in the test chamber is the same one you’d use to greet a former high school classmate you ran into as walmart: Are You Sure About That
> 
> To be honest, I wrote more, and it was much sexier. But then it got too long (like the chapter would’ve been 30 pages, long) so I had to split the chapter up :( You’ll just have to yell at me more so I can finish up *next* update I suppose! :^3


	9. Sector G walkthrough but every time there's gay shit it gets faster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ♫ You know it isn't sexual  
> Strictly confectional  
> Strictly medicinal  
> If a little nontraditional ♪

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the dubious consent tag comes into play, kids! Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
> 
> In case you didn't see me screaming about it on my blog, [ here is some lovely fanart of all the boys ](https://twitter.com/kill_syl_sirens/status/1328969865621893123?s=20) by twitter user kill_syl_sirens! Definitely made me deceased!

Most of the people they killed in the warehouse were soldiers, though there had been a few bullsquids here and there. Coomer ended up coming in clutch by bursting out of a big metal container with a big gun and yelling “Surprise!” before lighting up some different looking army people who’d been wearing all black. No one- Benry included- knew how he had gotten in there in the first place. If Benry had to guess just based on snippets of smartguy talk he’d absorbed while on the job, he’d say it was probably due to Chaos Theory. Freeman had said something about, uh, shipping robot slaves out, but busting open more of the metal containers proved evidence against that case.

Everyone decided that looting the bodies would probably be best. Benry knew it was ok to do this, since they were in an emergency. Emergency procedures could be on case by case basis. Or, well. Bubby, Coomer and Tommy were allowed to loot. Freeman was still on probation, so the rules were going to have to be more strict for him. It led to less arguing than Benry would have liked. Ended up becoming a game of search and evade. Freeman seemed intensely driven to not talk to and look at Benry at the same time. Kept acting all major sus probable cause, bouncing his legs up and down and twitching and sweating. Definitely up to something. 

After all that they got a bunch of guns and other stuff that would be useful, or whatever. Tommy found a deck of cards on one of the soldiers so the four science men were now playing with them. Benry wasn’t personally that big a fan of playing card games. Terrible graphics, and too much counting most of the time. But it was nice to watch the other guards play poker in the break room sometimes, especially when they drank. Lots of shouting and swearing at each other. Good place to get the deets on going ons. 

He perched on a nearby barrel while the others talked and played the dumb game with the little pieces of cardboard. This one wasn’t poker. He thought he heard that everyone was supposed to cheat? He didn’t get it. The whole point of doing a lying bit with a friend was escadeshon. Calling it out just broke kayfabe. Not much fun for anyone.

Freeman, being a natural criminal, was the worst of it out of anyone. He had all the tells of looking away and fidgeting around and rubbing at his bandages. Tried to cover it up by pitchflirting as distraction. So desperate. Always had to argue with all three. Even with Tommy, who clearly wasn’t interested. Very annoying. 

“Look, all I’m saying is I have it on good authority from a friend south of the border that the Juárez Cartel is all tied up right now with street gang skirmishes. If we can unload even a _fraction_ of some of these pieces of equipment,” Freeman drew two cards and placed them face down onto the pile. “Two sixes. Anyway, we could afford to purchase and move an _unprecedented_ amount of units into New Mexico. _Hablas español, Bubby? ¿Te dieron esa habilidad, científico perfecto?”_

 _“Prrrrr supuesto que lo ssse, chico molessssssto,”_ Bubby snapped, flinging a single card down violently. “But the only unpressssedented thing here is your shrrrtsightednesss. One five.” 

Freeman groaned and clutched his cards tightly in his hand until they bent. “Oh god, not the mafia speech again.”

“Vegas issss more of a God damn lucrrrrtive target!” 

“No! It’s not! I’m tired of hearing about it! This isn’t a Martin Scorsace movie, you old fart!”

Bubby opened his mouth wide to show all his teeth and hissed at him.

“-pen. Day.--ho-!” Coomer added chipperly. “Three--. Four.” One of his cards fell into the pile with a splat, being almost completely soaked in blood.

“Bullshit!” Freeman jabbed a finger right into Coomer’s face, spit flying. “Bull-fucking-shit! I played two fours for real a few turns ago!”

Coomer squinted his eyes almost all the way shut as he smiled and flipped his cards over. Two fours and a (now red) short little guy on a bicycle.

Freeman stared down at them for a moment, chewing on his lip and rocking in place. “...We never agreed on the rule for Jokers.” he finally snapped. 

“I think- I believe the Jokers can usually be any card, Dr. Freeman!” Tommy said, placing a cautious hand on Freeman’s arm.

“ _I know that,”_ he growled, shaking the hand off. “But I thought we agreed to discard them. That card never should’ve been there in the _fucking_ first place!”

“Greetings!” Coomer started to push the discard pile toward Freeman.

“Jussssst take the pile, you big baby.” 

Benry coughed out a laugh. Couldn’t help it. Bubby really knew how to do it to ‘em when he wanted to. 

Freeman turned around to glare at him, lips raised to show his teeth, face turning red. He turned back to the group and jumped to his feet. “This game is stupid anyway! You’re all cheating the _wrong way._ Come find me when you’re done with your little ‘change the rules in the middle of the game’ shtick.” He kicked at the discard pile. Cards flew. Everyone yelled at him as he stormed off. 

They grumbled and began to gather the cards once he was out of view. 

“Dr. Freeman seems- he’s kinda acting like he’s out of sorts.” Tommy said with a frown. He stuffed his hand into his coat pockets and pulled out a perfectly cold soda. Cracked it open and took a sip.

“He’sss usually like that,” Bubby said dismissively. He took his and Tommy’s cards and began to push them all together into a stack. “Dr. Coomrrr, will you- oh.”

Another Coomer clone had walked on over while Tommy and Bubby had been busy with the cards and slipped a wire around the first one’s neck. They all watched in silence as the second one finished strangling the first to death. Benry hopped down from his spot and came closer to get a better view of the show. After the first one’s last gurgle, the second one dragged his body away to a corner and returned to the circle, cards in hand. He sat down in the first one’s spot.

“Hello there!” Coomer said, taking the card stack from Bubby’s still-outstretched hand and shuffling them along with his own. 

“....Anyway.” Bubby continued. “I didn’t prrssssonally know him before all thissss. But he’sss been cranky from the moment we’ve met.”

“Oh.” Tommy paused. “Do you think another soda would help?” He pulled out another can from his other pocket. 

“--So.Da-!”

Bubby made a vague ‘I dunno’ sound. He looked up and started, as if noticing Benry for the first time. “Would you like to take his ssssspot, young man?”

Tommy turned to look at him as well and shot him a closed lip smile. “Oh, um. Yeah! Come- come join us, Mr. Benrey!”

Huh. He wouldn’t mind sitting next to Tommy, actually. Besides for avoiding good friend Benry, Freeman had been pretty intent on keeping Tommy all to himself. Pretty unepic that he’d try to friendsteal. But now it was good, he decided as Tommy handed out sodas to everyone. Just like old times in the cafeteria. Coomer passed some cards to him. Benry set them down on the floor without looking and turned in his spot to fully face Tommy.

“you got the uh, Playstation Plus free month pass?” Benry asked, taking a bite out of the side of his can and slurping up the contents. 

“Um,” Tommy replied, eyes darting fast between the can and Benry’s face. “N-no?” He clutched his own can tightly in his hands and raised it to take a sip.

“yeah, it’s going to be pretty great. as soon as i get home i’m going to boot up Heavenly Sword on it to play- uh, Heavenly Sword, it’s NOT a rip off of God Of War, you know,” Benry clarified, “gonna be such a great cool. got DLC to have sixty people on one server.” He shoved the rest of the can into his mouth and continued to talk between chews. “was gonna try it with my friend, but i think he might be dead now. space opened up. you wanna come over and play?”

“Hello? Are you two mrrrrrrronssssss gonna take your turns?!”

“Hello!” 

“Oh, I don’t play- I don’t even own a playstation,” said Tommy. “I’m more of a- a PC gamer. But- but anyway- Mr. Benrey, I’m pretty sure Heavenly Sword is an Xbox exclusive.”

Not _this_ again. Why does this universe need to be so wrong all the time, huh? Yeesh. And uh. Wait. If _that_ was wrong, it could mean even worse things. “.....and Playstation Plus?” he asked, dreading the answer.

Tommy looked down at his lap and shook his head solemnly. 

Benry let out a squawk of black and white Sweetvoice before clamping a hand down onto his own mouth. Oops. That was rude. “my bad,” he mumbled. Not Tommy’s fault this universe was major sucks. 

“Black and white, shit’s not right? What’s- what’s not right about it?” Tommy turned towards him, looking real curious with big coyote puppy eyes. “I feel like- like well, you’re not really telling me a whole lot here. It would- it would really help me with…” he trailed off, shooting a glance back toward the other two. 

Oh, man. Wait. Shit. If Playstation Plus wasn’t real, didn’t that mean Benry no longer had a free month pass? This whole day was turning into one disaster after another. First he’d been ripped into a different universe, then no one was happy he’d fixed everything for them, then Freeman was busy with other stuff and failtrying at stealing friends instead of begging and smooching? And now no Playstation Plus free month pass? Unbelievable.

“They’re seriousssssly just gonna gosssssip with each othrrrrr like schoolgrrrrlssss.”

“Kill?”

“....Mr. Benrey?”

“BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB,” Benry replied distractedly. 

The rest of the group decided to rescind their offer to let him play after that. It was whatever. He never really wanted to play in the first place. 

He has a much more interesting toy to go find.

\---

“Stupid fucking lizard- and the clone- and even Tommy! Urghh!” Freeman kicked out at the nearest wooden crate hard enough for it to crack open. “They’re already closing rank to conspire against me! I _knew_ this would happen! A crack team of people who could actually help me was _way_ too good to be true! Playing mind games with the cards….” He wrapped his arms around his middle as he walked, shivering. His eye wound currently felt like it was eating away at the rest of his skull with acid. “Whatever. I guess that’s still not _too_ different from normal workplace politics. _‘The rules say you don’t have clearance for that, Gordon. You’re not following proper OSHA guidelines when you use the test chamber as a racketball court, Gordon. You can’t just walk over and grab all the poker chips from the middle of the table without playing, Gordon!_ Small minded idiots, all of them!” He wished they hadn’t killed everyone in here so fast. He didn’t feel particularly bloodthirsty, but he didn’t know what else to _do_ with himself.

“And hey, you know what else I _really_ don’t understand? Where do all the clones keep coming from? Are they being teleported like the aliens? Even if so, I can’t help but notice that they always come up to _my_ group, specifically, and greet _me_ by name. It’s true that I’m probably famous within the company as the new up and comer, but _come on._ I… _think_ these robots might be tracking me. Yeah.” 

Now where…? No. Another dead end. They’d passed a med station at one point. He hadn’t imagined that. “Oh, that’s right! Didn’t that one scientist from earlier say that my suit is full of trackers? And that the _army_ is using them to track my movements? Oh my god, I didn’t even think of that! What if the Coomers are recording me with tiny cameras behind their eyes, so every time I’m around one my face is being projected onto the big screen in some shady government agent’s office? I’ve got to find a way to get rid of him…or _them,_ or…” He chewed at his lip thoughtfully as he rifled through a soldier’s pack. Maybe they’d missed something. _Anything._ He’d even take army grade methamphetamine, at this point. 

“Although, some of them _have_ been pretty useful lately. The one that used a rocket launcher to take out that helicopter was pretty awesome. Too bad he jumped to his death soon after. I still don’t understand why they have that suicidal mechanism. I guess it _could_ just be a random dysfunction, but…” No! Nothing! Were the others hiding the pills they’d found from him? “You know what, I bet it’s some sort of fail safe to keep them from spilling secrets. Like the army keeps sending them to spy on me, but they realize how amazing I am right away, so it makes them want to join my side. Their newfound love for me keeps activating the self destruct code. Tragic, really. Maybe I should just aim for a headshot every time a new one shows up, I don’t know. Bubby seems to have some sort of unnatural attachment, and I don’t want to deal with the drama.”

He sneered reflexively. “Feh. _Bubby…_ fuck that guy. I guess there’s something to be said for knowing your own worth as a scientist. I would know! But the guy was grown in a fucking _vat._ What work did he actually put into earning his degrees? Was he awarded a doctorate at an accredited university? _Probably_ not! I _think_ he’d have a hard time getting in if he applied. Although” The hallway looked dark, and he remembered the med station had had a glow around it. Maybe there? “Some schools on the west coast go pretty ham on fulfilling their diversity quota. He’d probably be accepted into a UC Berkeley program just so they can put up a plaque bragging about how they were the first school to give a science degree to a half-feral octogenarian ghoul.”

He stopped to lean against the wall and half bend over as a new wave of nausea washed over him. Nothing to do but ride that shit out. “And then Tommy….” He stopped, swallowing something acidic feeling rising up from the back of his throat. No, wait. Maybe he _should_ throw up? Would he feel better? …No, he’s thinking of drunk nausea for that one. “I don’t buy that whole innocent act. ‘ _I-I never shot a gun before, Dr. Freeman.’_ Yeah, right. Sure. I know paramilitary training when I see it. It’s either that, or magic. Which _wouldn’t_ be surprising, considering all those _perfectly cold_ soda cans he keeps pulling out of nowhere. I bet he’s like one of those magical retar-” 

He gagged, suddenly, and spent the next minute dry retching. “....that’re always popping up in novels that horror authors write whenever the coke gets a little too plentiful,” he managed to gasped. Swallowed. “No, probably not. I guess he’s not _actually_ stupid. And since he’s smart -y’know, not as smart as _me,_ but he’s sharp- he’s not allowed to be gifted with divine powers. That’s just how that works. Something’s _definitely_ up with him, though. I thought Benrey might’ve brought him along as a snack, but now I’m thinking,” Okay, time to keep moving. Get to the med station. “Those two must be in cahoots with each other. Always going off together, whispering. _Scheming,_ most like. I’ve been trying to keep them separated as much as I can as a preventative measure, but it’s hard to concentrate well enough to have a decent conversation when my _eyesocket feels like it’s on fucking fire and I’m constantly on the verge of throwing up! FUCK!”_ He ground his teeth together. There it was. Med station, straight ahead. He’d run to it if he could, but it gave him an extra burst of energy in any case. 

Freeman pressed his arm into the med station hub and hastily punched at the buttons. “C’mon, come on…oh my god, its morphine reserves are depleted!" He slammed his fist against the panel. “No! Fuck you!” he shouted at it.

“hey, don’t touch that?”

Freeman screamed and whirled around to find Benrey about two inches from his face. “Woah! Back the _fuck_ up!”

“huh?” Benrey said in that usual maddening tone. He took a single tiny baby step backwards. “why don’t you want me around?”

“I never _said_ I never wanted you around,” Freeman growled, reaching out to push Benrey’s shoulders. “It’s called _personal space-_ wait.” His grip on Benrey’s shoulders tightened. Benrey. Benrey had the drug orbs. And they were alone. Benrey had _obviously_ come to seek him out for another taste...this was actually perfect! His heart pounded in his chest. Just the small hope of some relief was quelling the pain. 

He could do this. He licked his dry lips and stared down at the guard. He wore that same stoic, bored expression, but Freeman could see that his eyes were darker than usual. Pupils wide and black and filled with the same cruel, focused excitement as a cat about to pounce on unsuspecting prey. That was fine though. Even if it made his breath shallow. He already knew all this about Benrey. “Yeah. It’s fine. I said it’s _fine!_ Now’s not the time for hesitation, so I don’t want to hear it! Okay!”

“bro. who are you _talking_ to?” Benrey laughed. Again?! _Fuck._ Freeman snapped his mouth shut, feeling his face heat up. Some sort of tension was beginning to wind up tight in the center of his chest. He wanted to grab Benrey’s neck and _squeeze._ Wanted to hear the choked gasps as he struggled to breathe- no. No, that might not work. He might not even need to breathe, and- _what is he even thinking. That shouldn’t be the main reason not to do it! Wake the_ fuck _up!_

Okay. Deep breaths. Breath normal. Breath normal, and you’ll think normal. Freeman pressed his lips tightly together and pushed Benrey back against the nearest wall.

“woah. wuh?” Benrey said, looking from side to side. 

Don’t ask. Asking gives him an out. Just tell him to do it and he’ll fucking do it. “Give me the drugs,” he growled through clenched teeth.

Benrey looked him dead in the eye. “don’t feel like it.” 

Freeman felt a hot flash of anger rush up into his throat. That little shit.

His hands traveled up grip at Benrey’s face on their own accord. His thumbs hooked under Benrey’s jaw and he tilted it upward. The guard barely reacted to it all. Kept his hands at his sides. Didn’t struggle. Just kept watching Freeman’s face. This was all just _amusement_ for him. The reminder made something dark and ugly swell inside of him. It was completely hopeless to threaten something practically immortal and highly formidable and…

What was he even _thinking?_ Where was this _loser_ talk coming from? He mentally gave himself a shake.

He pressed his fingers into the hollows of Benrey’s cheeks until his mouth opened with a small pop. Freeman could see a glimpse of the points of his teeth. The only reason Benrey wasn’t acting more concerned was because he was an ignorant moron. Freeman needed to stop taking other people’s opinions into account. The withdrawal was starting to force him into anxiety. He wouldn’t let it. 

“Come on,” he said forcefully. “Don’t act all _coy_ on me now. I _know_ you like this shit, and I’m acting like a good little hamster! Just... give me my reward already!”

Benrey’s eyes rolled upward for a moment as if he really had to think about it. “what’s a hamster?”

Freeman jammed his forearm against Benrey’s vest. “Lab rat, whatever!” 

Benrey went quiet for a moment. Long enough for Freeman’s heart to start pounding against his ribcage and his stomach to drop. Wasn’t it enough? It’d been enough last time! He’d be happy to do more under normal circumstances. Really. But he felt so _tired_ , like his muscles where going to give out from the constant twitching and fidgeting. 

He jolted when Benrey began to sing his orb song. “Is that…?” Orange and pink? Yes! Freeman’s mouth began to water in anticipation. Holy crap, he really was turning into Pavlov’s dog. He’d deal with those implications later. Right now is drug time. 

Rather than have it float over to Freeman’s mouth, the way it had back in Biology, the drugs stayed behind Benrey’s teeth. The guard opened his mouth wider on his own accord, showing it off the way an obnoxious kid would show off half-chewed food. Freeman started to bounce on his toes. 

“What’s the fucking hold up?!” he demanded. He had a sinking feeling that he already knew. Those eyes hadn’t lost their focused malice. Somehow, Freeman had been stupid enough to show weakness. Maybe Benrey could smell the sickness, or the desperation. Maybe he just had a supernatural sense that informed him whenever he had Freeman by the balls. 

Benrey smiled as much as he could with his cheeks still squished. “cuh an’ geh ih.”

“Cuh an’...” Freeman repeated dumbly. _Oh._ “Are you saying ‘come and get it?’” Benrey tried to nod. “What is this, the world’s most pathetic attempt at getting a kiss?” he sneered. He let go of one side of Benrey’s face and reached toward his mouth with his index finger. “You know I can just- _yow!_ ” 

Benrey playfully snapped at his finger with his sharp, sharp teeth. “....oh.” Right. These were the same jaws that had bitten the muzzle of his gun clean off. Shit. Okay! Okay, this was actually going to happen! Every muscle in his body was clenching up in fear, but that’s no big deal. Maybe- maybe he could barter down…how gay…this was going to get. “Oh my God, that sounded stupid even in my head.”

Benrey easily shook his head out of Freeman’s grip. “what’s wrong? you scared?” Freeman could see flashes of pink and orange for every word that Benrey spoke. “lil’ chicken hat can’t uh, kiss a homie without getting mad hard over it?”

It was as if someone had poured ice water over Freeman’s head. He growled, fists clenched down at his sides. The little freak was trying to- what? _Goad_ him into kissing him? The fucking _nerve_ of this guy never failed to madden him. Kissing him was the _last_ thing he wanted to do right now- bite? Maybe. Slap silly? _Absolutely._ He didn’t even care that all Benrey had to do was snap his fingers and burst him like a balloon, it’d be worth it to throw him to the ground and, _and beat him into an absolute pulp with his fists!_

...

Might as well redirect that energy into doing something stupid. 

He slapped his hands onto the sides of Benrey’s helmet and leaned down. His mouth started to suck in air before his lips even touched Benrey’s. The resulting vacuum meant he didn’t have to press his face in that hard before the drug was drawn past Benrey’s lips and through Freeman’s mouth and down his throat, leaving behind the sweet-sour taste of tropical Starbursts . 

Yep. Lips barely touched at all. Only lasted a few seconds before he pulled back, tops. 

Freeman couldn’t help but let out a sigh as a drug melted into his brain. _That’s better,_ he thought, feeling his face go slack. The pain faded away to an ignorable itch. He wanted to press his face into Benrey’s shoulder and enjoy the nice weather. 

Woah, woah. Hold the phone. What the fuck?

He focused his gaze back onto the nuisance before him. It smiled wide at him with disconcertingly pointy teeth. “what’s uh. what’s goin’ on here?” Benrey asked in his usual mocking lilt. “feelin’ it?” Freeman found that he still wanted to wring his neck.

No, no. Can’t do that. He _had_ to grab Benrey somewhere, though. He was beginning to feel the same type of frustration that girls show when looking at a puppies through the window glass of a pet shop. He settled for the arms. 

Benrey made a surprised noise when Freeman grasped onto his biceps. Felt- felt like normal muscles underneath. He couldn’t figure out much about the texture with the gloves still on, but he’d sort of been expecting- he’s not sure _what_ he’d been expecting, honestly. 

“nice.” Benrey said. Freeman could still spot glimpses of orange and pink. So the bastard was keeping the rest of it in there, huh? He felt a sudden tightness in his chest and realized that his breath had quickened. What did he think? That Freeman was going to do that _again?_ That he was so hooked on the stupid orbs he would degrade himself _twice,_ even though he’d already gotten enough to quell the pain and stave off withdrawal? Freeman clicked his tongue. No, that was too simple. He bet it was a dare. More of that chicken hat bullshit, _I know you want some but you’re too scared to get it._ Well, that settled it! He _is_ getting the rest of that orb. And he’d do it in a way to make _Benrey_ feel dumb, too. Assuming he had enough self awareness for that sort of thing. 

Freeman reached out and hooked his hand under Berney’s chin, fingers digging hard into the sides of his jaw. Benrey’s eyes widened comically as the force of it made his mouth open into the fish-faced O. “whu?”

“Shut up,” Freeman said heatedly. He tilted Benrey’s head back to get a closer look into his mouth. Yeah, there it is! That big ball of pink and orange drug color, slowly sliding back on Benrey’s tongue towards his throat. 

Benrey tried to throw his newly freed arm around Freeman’s shoulder. Freeman shrugged it off distractedly. “Now let’s see…”Okay, so this hand position wasn’t doing a lot of favors for his wrist. But how to keep Benrey’s head tilted like this? He could….nah, not with the helmet. _Unless_ …

Freeman let go of Benrey’s arm with his other hand and reached back behind Benrey’s head. He ignored the “mmph!” as he leaned in closer. He felt around until his fingers found the catch and jammed them into the opening between Benrey’s helmet and his neck. One good yank later, the helmet was off Benrey’s head and tossed over Freeman’s shoulder. 

“...bruh. so rude,” Benrey whined, eyes darting away from Freeman’s face to the presumed spot his helmet had landed. Huh. It was a lot easier to read his expression without that thing in the way. From the way his eyebrows were furrowing, that must’ve actually bothered him. 

The idea of actually getting a rise out of Benrey made satisfaction curl in Freeman’s chest. The shadows had retreated as well, pooling into the spaces of Benrey’s eye sockets.Freeman’s thumb lessened its pressure against Benrey’s face enough to skirt across one of his sharp cheekbones. Altogether, it really did give his face an overall skull-like quality. Especially with his pupils as wide as they currently were, dark and fat, leaving only the barest hint of yellow against their rims.

There were faintly colored trails of drool running down his chin.

Freeman swallowed again. That look had been the equivalent of a cattle prod. He didn’t feel lethargic anymore. He felt _electric._ Heat hummed through his veins and pooled in his stomach.

He grasped onto the hair at the back of Benrey’s head the best he could. “Damn it, why the fuck is your hair so _short?_ ” he growled.

Benrey gurgled something in answer. Freeman gave his head a firm shake. “ _Quiet,”_ he said lowly. He yanked Benrey’s head back with a harsh tug. Benrey’s eyes rolled up into his head and he let out a moan. 

Freeman couldn’t help but bark out a laugh, even as the sound of it caused him to feel a small jolt between his legs. “Wow! You must be… _really into this,_ huh?” The thought of such a powerful being moaning like a bitch _was_ pretty amusing. In a distant, haha sort of way.

Benrey flopped his inhumanly long tongue out and started panting like a dog. The orb lay on its center, just past his lips, like a prized diamond. Orange and pink and ...was that a stripe of red? Freeman stared at it for a moment, mouth parted. His gaze accidentally traveled up to Benrey’s eyes. He sorely wished it hadn’t. They were lust-filled, and amused, and filled with the cruelest of hungers. Freeman felt equal parts arousal and disgust roll inside of him. 

“Yeah…’ he breathed, griping both hands tighter. “Look at you, trying to tempt me into sucking at your tongue. It’s _pathetic._ ” 

Benrey groaned. His own hands shot up to wrap at the wrist in front of him. He clutched at it, weakly, eyes remained fixed on Freeman’s own. Daring him? ...Begging him? Something like Benrey, begging _him_ for attention? How right. How utterly fitting. 

Freeman looked back down at the orb. Could he? No doubt. _Should_ he, though? Logically, it was a great strategy. Get higher, secure Benrey’s infatuation. Train the hellbeast stupid enough to think it could train _him._ Was that- was that right? His pulse was going too hard for him to think straight. He licked his lips. Screw it.

He ducked his head down to catch the orb between his teeth, bottom lip lightly brushing against Benrey’s strangely textured and slippery tongue. He bit into it and felt it burst in his mouth, raspberry and mango and cherry. He pulled back and swallowed, licking at the corners of his own mouth for remnants. 

Another wave of euphoria washed over him, so strong that it nearly sent him reeling backwards. He reflexively let go of Benrey’s head to grasp onto his shoulder, steadying himself. Benrey kept himself in the same position. Like a good dog. A good slave. _A good little powerhouse, completely wrapped around Freeman’s finger.  
_

He moaned quietly at the potential of it all. So the thought of owning something this deadly was a bit of a turn on, what of it? He’d popped a bigger stiffy when he found that laser guided rocket launcher on the cliffside the first time around. Didn’t mean anything.

Freeman moved to hook his thumbs into Benrey’s mouth. He used one to pull up at Benrey’s upper lip. Oh, yeah. Get a load of the side of those chompers. Benrey remained as pliant as a doll as he pried his teeth farther apart.This must be what owning a pet tiger feels like, he thought hysterically. Maybe he should get a tiger after he...after he and Benrey and those other powerful motherfuckers toppled The State and he established himself as Supreme Dictator. The heat in his stomach was building as he allowed his thoughts to spiral. Hell, he could own a whole tiger _zoo._ And Benrey could be the prized specimen at its center, sitting pretty in nothing but a gold collar and chain. Why not? Who or what could _possibly_ stop him now? 

He couldn't stop his mouth from motoring anymore. He was high as kite- who gives a fuck? “I bet you’re getting off from this alone.” he growled lowly. “Am I right? If I gave you a little uh,” he made his voice go flat in a crude mockery of the guard’s “‘ _procedural pat down_ ,’ would I only feel your gun? I _better_ not be able to feel anything else. Might make me angry. You really think that you deserve to show...how turned on you are by me, just by being in my…” Shit, he was starting to feel dizzy from the head rush. “...presence?”

He felt like a racehorse waiting at the gate. Couldn’t take it. He dove back down to lick at the rest of the orb with the flat of his tongue like an ice cream cone. If some of those licks just happened to slide against Benrey’s lips and tongue and teeth, so be it. If Benrey moved his lips right on back, who cares. Felt nice. Maybe it was just that third hit of drug, but...it felt _real_ nice. He moved his hands out of the way. One at the back of Benrey’s head, the other up wrapped around his throat. Just to keep everything nice and still. Benrey moaned again. Freeman felt a hand rub against the skin of his chest.

… _What?_

He glanced down to see Benrey’s hand phased through the armor of his suit. When he looked back up at Benrey’s face, it was mostly taken up by a smile full of teeth. Freeman’s body went cold.

 _“What the shit?_ Get- get out of there!” 

Benrey pressed in further, and Freeman swore his could feel it passing through his skin and into muscle. A ghostly presence both there and not there. Schrodinger's hand.

“how bout this, psycho boy?” Benrey smacked his lips. “make you angry?”

Freeman bared his teeth right back and squeezed Benrey’s throat harder without thinking too much about it. Didn't need to. This was a challenge straight from the jungle. Animal instinct. 

“heart’s beating awful fast,” Benrey managed to choke. His smile remained fixed in place. A grinning skull. “what’ll yuh-you do if i grab it? ugh. be upset? throw -guh- another tantrum?”

Now that Benrey mentioned it, his heart _was_ beating fast. But Freeman was only distantly aware that he should be terrified. He should be screaming in horror and feelings of violation. That wasn’t what this was, though. 

He yanked Benrey’s head even further back and squeezed his hand into a crushing grip against Benrey’s throat until he felt something pop. Maybe the orbs had a side effect. Clarifying cruel and inhuman thought. Or maybe he’d really just been _this_ sick inside the entire time. Either way, he decided as he stared deep into the unblinking voids of Benrey's pupils, he must be feeling _exactly_ what Benrey was feeling. 

The anticipation of destroying something mesmerizing. 

He idly thought about biting a chunk out of Benrey and could feel his mouth watering. He must have really, truly lost it this time. And he was still too high to care. 

“Mr. Benrey?” he heard Tommy call in the distance.

“Freeman!” And there was Coomer.

Both heads whipped toward the entrance of the hallway in alarm. When they looked at each other again a wordless understanding passed between them. Benrey’s hand slid back out from Freeman’s suit. Freeman released Benrey’s throat. They turned from each other without so much as an awkward throat clearing and began to fix themselves up and switch mental gears. 

“you broke my helmet, dude.” Benrey rasped as they headed toward the calls from the rest of the group. He held it up to flop it around in the light. It was practically cracked in half. 

“It’s not like you need one,” Freeman said dismissively. “If _anyone_ needs a helmet, it’s me. The fact I’ve survived this long without one is a miracle.” 

“mweh mweh mweh. why you gotta be so full of yourself? hot air balloon.” Benrey rubbed at his own throat. The motion lured Freeman's gaze. The bruises were already fading, but the sight of those red and purple marks against the deathly pale of Benrey’s skin made him positively tingle with satisfaction. 

Why had he even been stressed before? He wondered as they joined the rest of the group. He stopped for a moment, surveying them. A weapon savant naive and malleable enough to follow orders. A man as pragmatically bloodthirsty as he was expendable. A terrifying beast who was, admittedly, genius enough to keep up with Freeman’s machinations. And…

Benrey caught his eye again and flashed him another smirk. It didn’t make Freeman mad, this time. Made him feel more secure than anything else. Benrey might be a nuclear bomb, but Freeman was mere inches away from being able to grab the detonator. The easy shortcut directly to the final step of his life’s ultimate plan:

_‘And then they’ll all be sorry.’_

“Let’s go, boys.” he ordered, leading the way out of the warehouse towards the sound of gunfire and explosions. Things were _finally_ looking up. The sun was shining. His mind was singing. The army was going down. After all- he had an entire arsenal of shiny new weapons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh wow. good for him, eh? :^) nothing but smooth sailing from here on out, im sure. 
> 
> shoddy spanish translations:  
> Hablas español, Bubby? ¿Te dieron esa habilidad, científico perfecto?: Do you speak Spanish, Bubby? Did they give you that skill, perfect scientist?
> 
> Per supuesto que lo se, chico molesto: Of course I know it, annoying boy 
> 
> Coomer's attempt at saying 'pendejo': dumbass, moron, ect. 
> 
> The card game they're playing is called 'Bullshit.' Perfect for liars.


End file.
